


My Neighbor Vagabond

by NoelEnough



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Blood and Gore, F/M, Fluff, Guns, Light Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 20:50:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14245479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoelEnough/pseuds/NoelEnough
Summary: With fame comes consequences, even if it's only moderate amounts fame. When a crazed fan breaks into Willow Davies home, the emerging crime author is forced to move into a ritzy condo in the expensive part of town. Willow is known for her eccentric fashion and gritty novels, but her new neighbor just might have her beat.





	1. Meeting the Neighbor

          The rain was cold, despite the hot and humid air it fell through, and I was glad I had the foresight to bring my umbrella. I walked idly down the street as I explored my new neighborhood, the sidewalks almost totally empty due to the poor weather.

          As I expected, I walked passed many high-end shops as I made my way back to my condo. I peered into the windows and scoffed as the prices slowly gained more zeros than I thought a tank top or beige purse could possibly have. I may be able to live in the nice new condo my royalties had afforded me, but I wasn’t about to drop six figures on a leather jacket because it promised to be ‘The Most Comfortable Jacket Ever Made.’ I was eyeballing a pair of boots, that might actually be worth $350 if the Victorian styled shoes came in my size, when a mans voice pulled me out of my internal debate.

          “You’d look good in those,” he said as he leaned in close enough that his umbrella bent mine slightly.

          “Thank you,” I muttered shyly and stepped away, but he followed me.

          “Where does a pretty thing like you get the money to dress up like that so casually that rain doesn’t make you think twice?” He was really starting to get in close, so his overpriced cologne invaded my nose and made me sneeze.

          “I work for it,” I said bluntly as I rubbed my nose and tried to step away again.

          “I bet you do,” he almost purred and I felt my body tense as he looked me over. “I bet there’s a special market for ladies like you.”

          I gasped indignantly and looked down at the outfit I had chosen for today. My long grey sweater flowed gently in the warm breeze and brushed against my knees. The sweater was open in the front so my black low-cut t-shirt and pentagram harness were on display for him. I looked away sheepishly as I questioned my choices and caught a look at myself in the shop window. My black lined green eyes stood out against my naturally pale skin and silver wig, the ends of which were a deep purple that matched my lipstick.

          “I’m not a whore!” I snapped as I shook my shyness away and tried to defend myself as best I could. “I’m an author, I’ll have you know! Now buzz off, because I have better things to do today than harass girls on the street to make me feel better about myself!”

          I was only proud of myself for a few seconds, then I instantly regretted it as his hand violently grabbed my shoulder and yanked me to his chest. I dropped my umbrella and started to try fighting him, but my fists only made his evil grin wider.

          “I’m sorry if I offended you,” he sneered, and I started to push against him to free myself. “But you need to learn to take a compliment _sweetheart._ Now, I’m going to give you one chance to come with me willingly, or I’ll have to take your slutty witch ass by force.”

          I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as I fought harder, which made his hand move to my waist for more control. A scream was forming in my throat as he started to pull me away, but the sound of a pocket knife clicking open stopped him in his tracks. He let go as his eyes widened and I darted past where the sound of the knife had come from, almost tripping over my own feet as my scream turned into a terrified whimper. Before I snatched up my own umbrella, I noticed another one that had been discarded nearby. I stopped in my tracks and looked back at the person who had come to my rescue.

          “I fail to see how calling her a whore is a compliment,” A man growled, his deep tone sending a chill down my spine.

          His sandy blond hair was slowly getting soaked as the rain fell onto his shoulders and long ponytail. This man was probably about six feet tall and well built, his shoulder and arm muscles flexing against his red t-shirt as he adjusted his grip on the pocket knife he had drawn.

          My attacker’s mouth hung open as he was stared down by the much larger man, his words failing him after the situation was ripped from his control. I retrieved the blond man’s umbrella before walking back to him and holding it over his head for him. He glanced over his shoulder, his crystal blue eyes twinkling with interest as I hid behind him. His brief look was enough to make me understand why my attacker was at a loss for words. They bored into me with an intensity that I could still feel, even as I averted my eyes.

          “I only meant that she was really attractive,” the other man finally stammered. “That she’s worth every penny that earned her those clothes.”

          “Fuck you and your negging tactics,” I grumbled quietly and I could tell by the half smirk the blond gave me that he heard me.

          “Shitty backhanded compliment aside, I should still stab you for trying to kidnap her,” he snapped as his smile faded and he stepped out of from under the umbrella and towards my attacker.

          His head brushed against the umbrella as he got out of the rain and threatened my attacker. The size difference was very noticeable now, as the blond towered over the cowering man. I was probably a full foot shorter than the blond, and he had at least fifty pounds of muscle on the shorter man. I was used to being the shortest one in the room, but I was totally taken by the way my attacker was eclipsed by the blond man.

          “But you caught me in a generous mood,” the taller man hummed. “I’m going to let you off with a warning. If I _ever_ catch wind of you harassing women on my block, I _will_ stab you.”

          The smaller man nodded quickly before taking off in the opposite direction. The blond turned back around and chuckled as he strode towards me.

          “Are you okay Miss Davies?” he asked as he took his umbrella from my hand and squinted as he realized his mistake.

          “And here I thought you just wanted to swoop in and help a woman in trouble,” I said with a smile. “Though I’m a little surprised anyone would recognize me from a distance like that. Should I be afraid?”

          “No. I’m sorry,” he sighed sadly, and I raised an eyebrow as the large man in front of me looked genuinely embarrassed. “But is it really that surprising? I can’t think of a single person who dresses like Willow Davies.”

          “You’d be surprised at the number of people who share my interests,” I smirked. “Though I _am_ probably the only one who would wear this out in the rain.”

          “So what brings the great crime novelist Willow Davies to this part of Los Santos?” he asked and shifted his weight so that he could bounce the toe of his high-top Converse on the pavement.

          “I wouldn’t use ‘great’ to describe my work but thank you. I’m glad to meet a fan in the wild,” I blushed. “But I’m here because I moved into one of those condos.”

          “What a coincidence!” he huffed as I motioned to the high-rise that loomed over the shopping district. “I live there myself. When did you move in?”

          “About three days ago,” I answered, scrunching my face as I tried to remember when I put away the last box.

          “What floor? If you don’t mind me asking,” he added quickly as I shot him a cautious glance.

          “Top,” I said slowly, only telling him because I had access to a private elevator that I was sure he didn’t. I only had one ‘neighbor’ and I hadn’t seen them yet in the small hall that separated our apartments, but I could have sworn that the landlady had described him as a nice, quiet young man. Though now that I think about it, almost every man was young to her, so the man in his mid-thirties that stood before me still fit the description.

          “Well then,” he laughed shortly and held out his hand, motioning towards the tower. “Allow me to walk you home Miss Davies.”

          “Thank you,” I nodded politely and allowed him to fall into step beside me. “Mr…?”

          “Haywood,” he answered. “Ryan Haywood.”

          “So, Mr. Haywood, how much of my work have you read? Have a favorite?” I asked and eagerly awaited his answer. What book he preferred would tell me a lot about him, whether he knew it or not.

          “All of them.” he hummed proudly, and I pursed my lips as I questioned if I should really be trusting him. “Though the Modern Rogue saga is by far my favorite.”

          “You’re not exactly making me want to trust you,” I huffed. “You pull a knife on someone in the open because they’re assaulting one of your favorite authors, then you tell me that my series on a hitman with next to no morals is your favorite.”

          “I didn’t pull a knife on him _only_ because I recognized you,” he argued. “I would have done it even if I didn’t know who you were. _And,_ I like your Modern Rogue stuff because it’s your darkest and most brutal works.”

          “You’re still digging the hole,” I warned and stepped to my right to make more space between us.

          “No. Okay, listen,” he said quickly, and I could see an excited glimmer fill his eyes as he explained himself. “They’re so _real._ Like, Thomas’ reactions to things are _exactly_ how someone who is severely depressed would react, and the fact that he pushes himself through so much just to chase the only high he is capable of anymore is so relatable. Also, I was glad you didn’t take a _John Wick_ way out and have him fall in love.”

          “Why?” I asked. His explanation was nothing I hadn’t heard a reviewer say before, but his excitement was what sold it to me. He felt very strongly and took the underlying message of the series to heart.

          “Because it would have been an easy cop out,” he shrugged as he held the lobby door open for me. “Having him totally lose it, go to prison, find solace in a young boy who reminds him of himself, and vows to help him so that he doesn’t grow up like himself isn’t exactly groundbreaking. But, it was done so well that I didn’t care and felt that it was the best way for him to go.”

          I couldn’t help but to blush and smile as he gushed about my books. Most of the people I met at signings were only middle-aged housewives who read my romance novels, so to see a grown man practically skipping around as he discussed the redemptive aspects of the morally numb Thomas’ actions was actually very satisfying.

          I was pulling out my ID card to show the guard at the door to my private elevator and wondering if I wanted to ask Mr. Haywood for his information so that we could talk more later when my decision was made for me.

          “Hey Trevor,” Mr. Haywood chirped as he greeted the guard and held the handle of the door while he waited for us to be buzzed in.

          “Hello Mr. Haywood,” the guard sang back before nodding to my limply held ID and unlocking the door.

          “You do know why I moved right?” I asked sharply, cutting Haywood off before he could continue and Trevor hissed as he shrunk away from the door I refused to enter now.

          “Some fan tried to break into your home? That’s what I read anyway,” he answered and after a moment of thought his eyes widened as his jaw dropped to the floor.

          “No. No, no. I am _not_ trying to break into your place. I actually live in the other apartment,” he quickly defended himself as he fished his own ID card out of his wallet. “I swear to you, I’m not trying to do anything like that. I just want to get to know you.”

          I looked to Trevor for confirmation and he simply nodded as Mr. Haywood waited with the door open for me. I sighed heavily and walked through the door and to the elevator in silence.

          “I promise you I don’t have any bad intentions Miss Davies,” he continued as we stepped into the small lift.

          Now that I was trapped in an enclosed space with him, his relative size intimidated me, and the comfortable aura evaporated as I felt my voice and confidence fade away.

          “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. He must have seen my shift because he left it at that.

          “It’s okay,” I murmured as the doors slid open to our floor. “It’s just been a crazy few weeks and it’s made me jumpy.”

          “I completely understand,” he said softly as we stood in front of our respective doors. “And I’m right over here if you’re desperate for someone to talk to. Or, if you’d prefer, I can stay over here and never talk to you again.”

          “Thank you,” I laughed quietly as I wrapped my sweater around me. “I appreciate the offer. Maybe I will take you up on it, but until then I hope you have a good evening Mr. Haywood.”

          “Please. Call me Ryan,” he smiled gently. “And you have a good evening too Miss Davies.”

          He turned and left me alone in the hallway while I thought about his offer. Since the break-in I had been wary of all fans, and while Ryan seemed nice enough, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t all that he appeared. But I couldn’t afford to move again, so I would just have to be careful around him for now. This was the first time in three days that I had seen him, and it was purely by accident, so I was confident that our interactions would be scarce.


	2. Getting to Know Mr. Haywood

          The next time I saw Mr. Haywood was around midnight a few nights later. I was up late playing video games, something I now had the spare time to do again, and had stopped to get a drink when I heard movement in the hallway outside. I stood on my tiptoes to look out the peephole and saw his back as he opened his door. I was going to just leave and go back to my game, but my socks lost traction as I stepped away and I hit the floor with a loud thud.

          I heard his door creak open but didn’t hear his footsteps and huffed as an embarrassed flush raced down my face and onto my chest.

          “I’m fine,” I called out and winced as I heard a low chuckle through the door. Judging by how loud it was, he had pressed his ear to my door to make sure I was alive.

          “Were you waiting for me to come home Miss Davies?” he asked, his tone lilting with amusement.

          “No!” I snapped back and was met with another chuckle as I rose to my feet. “I just happened to hear you when I got up for a drink.”

          “Mhm,” he hummed and the floor outside groaned softly as he walked back towards his half of the floor.

          “Excuse me?” I shouted and threw open my door to argue with him but stopped dead as he fixed me with an interested stare.

          I found myself clamping my mouth shut as he turned back towards me and leaned against his door frame, unable to speak as he stared me down with gleaming blue eyes. Even in the low light of the dimmed hallway his eyes seemed to shine as if there was a light source behind them.

          “I’m just teasing,” he smirked. “I’m sorry if I crossed a line.”

          My jaw clenched as I realized that I didn’t mind the teasing as much as I wanted to. Neighbor or not, he was a fan and I needed to keep my distance, but his curious stare held me in place.

          “Why _are_ you coming home so late?” I managed to mutter through the butterflies in my stomach.

          “Work held me up,” he shrugged but maintained his gaze. “Why are _you_ up so late?”

          “Playing video games,” I shrugged back and he tilted his head to the side. “Yes. I play video games.”

          “I don’t know why, but I kind expected the whole Victorian/goth aesthetic to go as far as a lifestyle choice,” he laughed.

          “And what? You think I wrote all my books on a typewriter and read by candle light?” I snorted.

          “It definitely crossed my mind once or twice,” he smirked.

          “No. I’m just as caught up with the times as most people my age,” I scrunched my face in agitation as I saw the question in his eyes.

          “I’m twenty-seven,” I spat before he could ask and he held up his hands.

          “Sorry,” he smiled. “You just don’t look your age.”

          “Because I’m short?” I snapped.

          “No, though it certainly doesn’t help,” he said slowly. “You just look more like a youthful young twenty-one-year-old. I don’t know many people in their late twenties that don’t look like life hit them with a semi-truck loaded with sleepless nights and bad decisions.”

          “I just take care of myself,” I muttered, hoping that the low light would hide the blush that crept back onto my cheeks.

          “I can tell,” he hummed. He must not have meant to say that out loud because he quickly pursed his lips and scrunched his nose.

          “And with that, I’m going to shower and think of all the things that I would have rather said,” he hissed and pushed away from the door.

          “You should send me the list,” I teased, glad for the upper hand. “I’d love to see what other insightful things you could come up with.”

          “I could fill a book with all the things that I had thought but were far more intelligent and complementary,” he winked.

          “I bet you could,” I smirked and retreated into my apartment.

          As soon as the door was closed, my body shuddered as the interaction took its toll on me. My heart-rate sky rocketed, and I began to shake as I sank to the floor with my back to the wall. I usually had to psych myself up for a conversation like that, but he just pulled me right in and I didn’t feel it until he was gone. I hadn’t met someone who made me feel comfortable enough that it didn’t drain me immediately.

          I shook my head and stood up. I couldn’t think that. He was hiding something and until I found out what it was, I needed to keep him at a distance. I walked back to my room and stared in horror as I saw myself in my full-length mirror. I had forgotten that I was only in a sports bra, long pair of boxer briefs, and my grey sweater.

          No wonder his first response was ‘I can tell.’

          I quickly scrawled an apology for my indecency on a notepad and crept back into the hallway. I stopped at his door and listened. I didn’t want to get caught doing something so childish, but I couldn’t stand the idea of letting him think it was intentional.  Once the sound of running water filtered from within his apartment, I slipped the note under his door and ran back to the safety of my room.

          Around three in the morning I returned to put my glass away and noticed a folded piece of notebook paper laying on the floor by the door. I cautiously opened it and yawned as I read the surprisingly neat handwriting of my neighbor.

_No need to apologize. I’ve seen far more (and worse) at the beach, so I don’t mind at all. I really want to word that differently, but I can’t think of any other ways that wouldn’t further dig my hole. Which is why there is no list of things I could have said instead of what I said earlier. All of them boiled down to: “You clearly put effort into how you look, and you look good.”_

          I smiled as I reread Ryan’s note and found myself biting my lip and smirking. Once again, I shook my head and went to bed before I could talk myself into trusting him.

          What I didn’t realize was how that would turn into a string of notes passed between the two of us. We would exchange notes at least once a day for the next two weeks. We didn’t see each other face to face because I was making final edits for a new book and he was caught up in work, so this made getting to know my neighbor easy for the both of us. Over the course of about sixteen days, we discussed everything from favorite foods to whether or not to judge each other if a strange man or woman left the apartment. He had grown on me and I could tell that he wasn’t a crazed fan because I wasn’t drowning in notes. Most other fans who wanted to talk with me about my Modern Rogue series would be blowing up my inbox with flattery and fan theories, but I found myself looking forward to seeing a slip of paper on the floor.

          So, when I was relaxing in my living room and heard the elevator ding down the hall, I couldn’t help but excitedly stare at the door. We were in the middle of discussing the crew/criminal hierarchy in Los Santos and I wanted to see what his reaction to my last note was. Not many people saw my fascination with the violent goings on of the city as a good thing, but Ryan seemed to share my interest in the psychology of crews and how to properly run them and I wanted to know how he felt about the use of torture.

          I had barely time to think about my actions before I quietly made my way to the door and listened to him talk to someone he had brought up with him.

          “What the actual fuck are you doing?” an oddly familiar voice chided Ryan as the paper floated across the floor and into my foot.

          “We have a thing going,” Ryan said while I was trying to place the other man’s voice. “We’ve been busy, so this is how we talk.”

          “It’s called a fucking cellphone Ryan,” the other continued and I squinted as an idea crossed my mind. “You can just text her. Unless your ‘hot neighbor’ is actually an eighty-year-old woman, in which case, you do you man.”

          “She’s only a few years younger than me Michael,” Ryan huffed and my jaw dropped.

          “Michael?” I gasped and threw the door open before Ryan could continue.

          The young, curly haired man looked at me hesitantly as he too recognized my voice but didn’t know why and Ryan stepped back and watched Michael with cautious eyes.

          “You’d probably recognize me if I was wearing a sugar skull mask and was talking through a headset,” I added and the lightbulb flickered on in the Jersians eyes.

          “Willow! You son of a bitch!” Michael grinned. “Never thought I’d get to meet you in person. Your character is scary accurate.”

          “I try,” I shrugged and looked over to Ryan who looked absolutely lost. “You’re not off the hook for the ‘hot neighbor’ comment.”

          “What just happened?” Ryan asked and changed the subject.

          “I play GTA with her,” Michael explained. “Who would have guessed right? Willow Davies plays the game based on Los Santos’ underground! What a surprise!”

          “I can’t say I’m all that shocked,” Ryan muttered. “She definitely has a firm grasp on all the concepts.”

          “Oh, that’s right Rye! You’ve read all her stuff,” Michael teased and an evil glimmer appeared in his eyes. “Even the sexy stuff.”

          “Oh. I know,” I smiled. “I’ve given him a hard time already.”

          Michael was one of the few people online I could actually stand long enough to play with regularly, so having him here in person wasn’t too much for my system. Something felt so familiar with him here, like we’ve hung out before.

          “So those are love notes then?” Michael pressed and only laughed as Ryan glared at him.

          “No,” I giggled. “Just a discussion on torture.”

          “Jesus Christ. Only you Ryan,” Michael chuckled and ignored the warning glance the larger man sent his way.

          “What Michael?” I teased him just like I would online. “You don’t have a weird ‘hot neighbor’ where you live?”

          “Okay, Miss Davies I can explain,” Ryan said as his cheeks started to turn red and Michael almost doubled over with laughter.

          “‘Miss Davies’?” he wheezed. “Ryan what the hell?”

          Ryan’s jaw shifted stiffly as he sighed heavily and walked into his apartment.

          “He’s head over heels for you Willow,” Michael said as he wiped tears from his eyes. “Hasn’t shut the fuck up about his new neighbor for the last two weeks. Like a fucking kid in a candy shop.”

          “I’m sure he’s just star struck,” I smirked. “Seen it before a million times.”

          “It’s more than that,” Michael winked. “And believe me, the way he talks when you’re not around would have you blushing like crazy.”

          “Oh?” I asked but before Michael could explain a knife came flying out of Ryan’s apartment, barely missed Michael’s face and lodged itself into the wall behind him.

          I gasped and jumped back as Ryan slowly lumbered into the hall, his face dark with anger as he squared up to Michael who was grinning from ear to ear.

          “You’re walking a fine line kid,” Ryan growled, his voice so low I questioned if it was his, but Michael seemed unfazed.

          “Ryan, I’m the last person who would be fucking scared of you so don’t try to intimidate me,” Michael snorted.

          I took a moment to look Ryan over while his attention was away from me. Maybe it was the fact that I knew more about him now, but for the first time I looked at him and didn’t feel wary. He was still intimidating as hell though. The way his shoulders squared and how he seemed to tower over Michael even though he wasn’t much taller made my heart skip a beat. The wariness gave way to an unfamiliar feeling of safety.

          “She’s checking you out,” Michael tried to whisper to Ryan, but my gaze locked on the younger man and my expression flattened.

          “Oh shit. She heard me,” Michael hissed as I stared him down.

          “You’re dead to me,” I said in a monotone voice and tilted my head to the side slightly. “If you don’t run fast enough, it might be literally.”

          “Now that, I’m kinda scared of,” Michael muttered. “In a creepy old doll kind of way. Like she herself isn’t all that scary, but I _feel_ like she could curse me.”

          “If you feel it, then it’s too late,” I hissed and Ryan chuckled.

          “God damnit,” Michael whined. “I’ll warn Lindsay. She’ll want to take an insurance policy out on me.”

          “We need to get going,” Ryan huffed, his voice returning to its normal levels. “Talk to you later Miss Davies?”

          “Ryan, just call me Willow,” I sighed as Michael’s eyes rolled. “The ‘Miss Davies’ thing is getting kind of weird. It makes me feel old.”

          “I’m just being proper,” he smirked and my eyes rolled with Michael’s. “But if you want to get a little more personal, I won’t stop you.”

          “There went your yearly suave allotment Rye,” the younger man groaned as my lips pressed into a thin line. “Let’s go before you find a way to fuck this up immediately.”

          Michael turned and walked down the hall, but Ryan stayed put as his eyes locked with mine. It felt like he was looking deep into my soul, searching for a sign that he had stepped to far. The fact that he would say such a thing and then still worry if it was too much made me smile, and he smiled back.

          “Let’s fucking GO!” the younger blond shouted.

          “I’ll see you around Willow,” Ryan said softly before smirking. “If you still want to after reading that.”

          I raised my eyebrows as he motioned to the note I had forgotten was in my hand. He simply shrugged before following Michael into the elevator. The hall felt cold and lonely without them, and I furrowed my brows at the thought that I might actually have friends. When I turned back towards my door I let out a loud short laugh at the pocket knife that was lodged into the wall. I pulled it out before going back to the couch to read Ryan’s note.

_Torture has its place. If it’s a matter of life and death, something needs to be done to protect those that are deemed important. If it meant protecting the people I love/care for, I would do anything to keep them safe. Even inflict pain on others, as long as the person deserved it. As for enjoyment? There are twisted people out there. They’re the ones that need to be watched._

          I thought about how Ryan had jumped to my rescue a few weeks ago and how he was so willing to fight that creep on my behalf. He said he would have done it for anyone, but the words he had written put it into a different perspective. I felt my heart flutter for a moment as the idea of him wanting to protect me because he cared. My work, fashion, and general introversion kept me from making any physical friends, most of them were only online, so the thought that I had someone I could _actually_ run to if I needed help was new to me. I loved it. For the first time since the break-in, I felt safe.

          I thought for a moment before writing out my response, reread it a few times, then crept across the hall to deliver my note.

_I couldn’t agree more. Finding someone who cares that strongly for the people they trust is very rare, and I’m glad I found another person who is willing to do ‘horrible’ things for those they love.    555-118-9954_


	3. "First" Date

          Three weeks later, I was stretched out on my couch wondering what to with my evening when my phone buzzed.

_Ryan: You busy?_

_Me: Nope. What’s up?_

_Ryan: Wanna go get food?_

          It was almost eight o’clock, but my stomach reminded me that I hadn’t eaten much today so I texted him back, telling him that I’d be ready in about thirty minutes. I didn’t go all out with my make-up, just a winged eyeliner, grey eyeshadow and a pale purple lipstick. For clothes I chose a loose, white t-shirt with ravens on it, black skinny jeans, and combat boots. I was pulling my hair back and pinning it with a small wand when I heard Ryan knock on my door.

          When I opened the door, his eyes drifted over me the same way they always did before he finally locked eyes with me and as usual, his gaze made me blush and look at my feet. Our relationship was very comfortable and there weren’t many topics we weren’t willing to talk about, but I still found it hard to look him in the eyes and not be intimidated. He knew this, so he purposely did it anytime he could.

          “Ready?” he chuckled as I looked back up to him with an angry glare.

          “Yes,” I muttered and stepped out. “What did you have in mind?”

          “I thought maybe we could just go for a walk and pick up what ever sounded good along the way,” he shrugged as we waited for the elevator.

          “That sounds very,” I paused and smirked. “Date like.”

          He had been fighting the ‘date’ thing longer than I had thought he would. We clicked together right away and, against my publicists wishes, I let go of any remaining reservations about seeing a fan after a week of regular conversation. I still felt like he was hiding something from me, but I didn’t think it was anything to be afraid of. He had been very open about anything that didn’t involve work or his feelings for me, and while I had managed to coax something out of him concerning the latter, he was tight lipped about work.

          I knew he was a criminal of some kind. How else could he afford a place like his and not have to dress in a suit on a daily basis? That and his late nights and stiff muscles led me to believe that was what he was hiding from me, but I didn’t force it out of him. He would tell me at his own rate, and maybe it was better if he never did. At least I could say I didn’t know if he got caught.

          I figured that this was the same reason he refused to call any of our outings a ‘date’, despite the fact that I knew his feelings towards me. Michael didn’t pass up the chance to rat his friend and coworker out and was more than willing to tell me how he was caught day dreaming while ‘reading’ my books, and various other things they had weaseled out of him. As such, I teased him every time he took me out for food or something of the ilk, and I awaited his usual eye roll and denial.

          “It just might be,” he huffed and my jaw dropped as I held my hand to my chest.

          “What’s this?” I gasped as he punched the lobby button. “Are you actually taking me on a date?”

          “Don’t ruin this before it starts,” he grumbled as red tinted his stubble lined cheeks.

          I playfully bumped him with my shoulder as I looked him over. He was in nice, form fitting jeans, a simple grey t-shirt that hugged him a little tight because of his broad shoulders, and bright green high-tops. His long hair was pulled back into a pony tail and the hair that didn’t pull back framed his face.

          Ryan smiled down at me as the doors opened and we stepped out without breaking eye contact. I blinked and shook my head, which only garnered his familiar low chuckle as he led me out of our building.

          “What made you want to go out?” I asked as we started down the sidewalk.

          “Rough day at work,” he shrugged as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “So, I just wanted to end the day on a high note.”

          “Awe Rye,” I cooed. “That’s so sweet.”

          “Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes, but I saw the red creep farther into his face. “You’re making it hard to want to do this more.”

          “Ryan, we do this all the time,” I smiled and looked down the street. “You take me out, or cook for me, or just come over to talk _all the time._ If you want me to stop teasing you about ‘dating’ you should stop doing the thing with your eyes. I’ll call us even then.”

          “What thing? This thing?” he snapped as he took two big steps to get ahead of me, turned to walk backwards, and looked me in the eyes. For a moment I just stared into their blue depths, but then I felt my heart skip and I looked down at my shuffling feet.

          “Yeah,” I grumbled as he grinned and fell back into place beside me. “That thing. Fucking asshole.”

          “See? Not so fun is it?” he muttered and gently pushed me.

          “Teasing is my only defense,” I spat back. “I can’t let you have all the power.”

          “Why not?” he smiled wickedly. “Isn’t that every romance plot you’ve written? A strong-willed woman gives in and lets the physically stronger male have all the power in the relationship?”

          “First off, what I write and what I want are different things,” I countered. “Second, that would require us to have a relationship.”

          “Well, what do you want?” he asked.

          I was taken back by his question and I felt my own cheeks warm as blood rushed to them. We had skirted around the topic so much that I hadn’t really thought about it in a long time. He watched me out of the corner of his eye as he waited for my response.

          “Well,” I started, but paused as my own desires caught in the back of my throat and fought to stay hidden. “I guess I really just want someone who isn’t bothered by my weirdness and is willing to deal with my stubborn but shy personality.”

          “No power transfers?” Ryan teased.

          “No,” I huffed. “A good relationship involves a balance of power. I do my best to write that in, but editors always tell me that ‘it’s not what the people want’ so I have to adjust it to be unbalanced.”

          “Horny housewives just want to have someone swoop in and take them away. In more ways than one,” he snickered.

          “What’s your excuse?” I sneered. “You want to have all the power over a strong-willed woman? Is that why you like my romance stuff?”

          “I read them for the plot,” he snapped and ignored my unconvinced hum. “The last thing I would want is to take control from a strong-willed woman. The stubbornness and confidence are very attractive.”

          “Well, I’m sorry I don’t fulfill the ‘confident’ requirement,” I giggled.

          “You do,” he said firmly. “Just because you’re shy doesn’t mean you’re not confident. You just look before you leap. Once you’re comfortable, you’re one of the most confident women I know.”

          I laughed nervously and looked at my feet as my whole face turned red. He stopped and lifted my chin with his index finger, quickly transfixing me with his soft gaze. I let myself get lost in his eyes as he took his time looking for something in mine.

          “Don’t sell yourself short Willow,” he said quietly as the world around us faded into white noise. “It takes a lot of confidence to be you. You go out wearing the clothes you love despite the odd looks others give you. You write gritty and highly detailed stories despite all the expectations people put on a female writer. You hold your own so well against Michael and I that I had a hard time believing it was still you at first.”

          I tried to look away, but he held me firmly and refused to break our gaze. Suddenly I could feel my pulse in all my extremities, and I became very aware of how much I loved his cologne.

          “Only you have the confidence to be Willow Davies,” he grinned. “And I would hate to take that from you for the sake of tilting the balance of power in my favor.”

          My lips started to feel fuzzy and I sighed heavily when he let go of my chin finally. He noticed my reaction and his grin turned into a knowing smirk as he winked, and we continued our walk. The conversation moved onto other topics as we found a food truck and wandered through a nearby park as we ate our hot dogs. As I finished off the last bite of my mac ‘n cheese topped sausage the conversation lulled, and my mind wandered back to _us._

          “What do _you_ want in a relationship?” I asked and he inhaled some of his Diet Coke in surprise.

          “Cutting to the chase I see,” Ryan coughed as he wiped off his shirt.

          “You did the same thing,” I huffed as he smiled knowingly. He was quiet for a few minutes before sitting down on a bench with a heavy sigh.

          “I guess I want the same thing as you,” he said quietly even though we were alone in this corner of the park. “Someone who can handle how weird I am and isn’t afraid of me.”

          I sat down beside him and stared out into the lamp-lit park that was full of people just a couple hours ago. It didn’t officially close for another few hours, but Ryan and I were the only people who had wandered this far in. Most people stayed near the road, where all the food and entertainment was. He lifted his arm suddenly and hesitated before wrapping it around my shoulder and pulling me to his side.

          “Must be hard to find people who aren’t afraid of you,” I teased and Ryan chuckled as he rubbed my arm with his thumb.

          “Yeah,” he smiled. “Don’t know what it is. I’m not that big of a guy, am I?”

          “A little,” I mused as I let my head lean on his shoulder. “It’s probably your eyes. They’re very intense, no matter how you’re feeling.”

          “That does seem to be a common sentiment,” Ryan murmured as he laid his head against mine.

          I closed my eyes and focused on how comfortable I was curled up against him as he sighed and relaxed. He practically melted into me and I smiled as he absentmindedly drew circles on my shoulder.

          “What brought this on?” I asked softly, not wanting to ruin our quiet moment. “You’ve been fighting the ‘date’ thing for a while now.”

          “Michael yelled at me,” he chuckled. “Said I needed to stop leading you on and go for it. Though more colorful of course.”

          “Of course,” I grinned. “Remind me to thank him later.”

          “We should probably get going,” he muttered in a low, serious tone suddenly.

          I sat up and was going to ask why, but I followed his gaze to the cluster of people with their phones pointed towards us. I sighed heavily and got up, quickly turning my back to the cameras. They already had all they needed to make conclusions, but I didn’t want them to catch my embarrassed blush.

          We had been caught by paparazzi before and he handled it surprisingly well, waiting until we were safe behind closed doors before letting his frustration come out in a long, irritated groan. It was odd for an author to be hounded by cameras, but my distinct style made me an easy target and until Ryan had started taking me out I had ignored it. Since then we had started taking precautions to stay out of the line of fire, like walking to the back corner of the park, but clearly it wasn’t working.

          I felt ashamed of pulling him into this, especially if I was right and he was a part of a crew, so our walk home was quiet and at arm’s length. Ryan rubbed his face as the elevator doors closed, the groan already emanating from his throat.

          “I’m sorry,” I muttered as I stared down at my boots. “I guess I’ll have to start dressing normally if we continue to see each other.”

          “Or,” he sighed and pulled my chin up again. “We can just keep it inside as much as possible. I was never one for PDA anyway.”

          I laughed and his hand slid up my jaw to cup my cheek as he stared into my eyes. My heart fluttered when he leaned in and pressed his forehead to mine. For the first time his gaze didn’t make me want to shy away, not that I could even if I wanted to.

          “I’m perfectly fine with keeping this under wraps,” he smirked. “This way I can have this side of Willow Davies all to myself.”

          I giggled as we left the lift and he took my hand as we stood between our apartments. He bit his lip nervously and continued to smirk.

          “Your place or mine?” he asked and winked.

          “Well if we go to mine, you’ll have to be ready for Linda to come over and lose her mind over what ever shots those kids got of us,” I sighed, my publicists voice already scolding me in the back of my mind.

          “Well then that settles it,” he smiled and pulled me to his door. “She doesn’t have a key to my place.”

          I had only been in his apartment once or twice, so the coziness of his home still made me stop and stare. Large furniture and dark hardwood gave the place an almost library-like feel. All he needed was a large fireplace and a few more bookshelves and I’d probably never leave. I had teased him about his choices, told him that he designed it all just to pull me in with its modern Victorian aesthetic.

          “Make yourself comfortable,” he smiled and waved towards the living room. “I’ll get drinks. The usual?”

          “Yes please,” I blushed and flopped down onto the couch.

          He knew my favorite teas and I bit my lip as I thought about him going out of his way to buy them for when I came over or ran out in my apartment. I sank into the cushions and sighed as I listened to the sounds of him heating up a cup of black currant tea for me. When he returned I eagerly took the mug and held its warmth to my face as he sat to my left with his soda.

          We talked for a long time, and in that time, we gradually cuddled back up to each other. Ryan and I did this often enough that it had stopped fazing me when I would mentally step back from the conversation and realize that we were almost on top of each other. This time though, I was keenly aware of how his arm moved from the back of the couch where it usually stayed while we sat together, to resting across my shoulders. His fingertips continued to lightly dance across my sleeve as he spoke, his other hand gesturing along with his story.

          I crossed my right leg over the other and shifted so that I was facing him more. His hand fell down my back when I moved, and goosebumps peppered my back and arms as he readjusted to match my position, his palm flattening against my back as our knees touched.

          He looked like he was going to say something, but he stopped and bit his lip instead as his free hand tucked some hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek. I inhaled sharply as he leaned in and our noses brushed past each other. I didn’t have to see his mouth to know he was smiling at my reaction. His blue eyes gleamed the same way they always did when he wore that smug smirk before fluttering shut as he placed a soft kiss on my lips.

          It was only a short kiss, a full two seconds _maybe,_ but it felt like a minute passed before he let his forehead rest against mine as I caught the breath I didn’t know I was holding. My hand came to rest on his chest, and I could feel his racing heart under my palm as I closed the small gap for another kiss.

          His hand twitch against my back as I melted into his other hand, which was firmly holding my face to his. Once we fell into a pattern of soft kisses and gentle nuzzling, his hand let go of my cheek and drifted up to pull the wand and let my long black hair cascade across my shoulders. After tossing the pin onto the table, he gripped the back of my neck and flicked his tongue across my lips. My hand clutched his shirt as I gasped, giving him enough room to take my bottom lip between his teeth.

          My muffled moan was all he needed, and his arm tightened around my back as he sucked on my lip. He let go of my neck and began to run his hand along the length of my leg, intentionally letting his nails drag across the denim once he knew it would pull more whimpers from me. The hand I still had on his chest traced his muscles and my other gripped his bicep as he let his fingers memorize the curve of my thigh.

          He let go of my lip and kissed a trail to my neck. I whimpered as he gently bit the sensitive flesh where my jaw met my neck, and it turned into a light moan as he roughly grabbed my ass. His low chuckle made spots form in my vision as his kisses became sloppy and hungry. The hand on my back moved so that it could slip under my shirt and the feeling of his hand on my bare skin forced another whimper from my lips.

          “Willow,” he half whispered, half groaned into my neck.

          “Yes Ryan?” I asked breathlessly.

          “I’m not going too fast, am I?” he asked as he pulled away and searched my face for any discomfort.

          “I would stop you if you were,” I smiled and reached up to tuck some hair behind his ear. “Do _you_ think you’re going too fast?”

          “I just,” he paused and gave me a small smile. “It’s been a long time since I’ve dated, and I really like you, so I don’t want to fuck this up.”

          “Well,” I started and let my finger trail down to his chin, which made his eyelids flutter slightly. “If it makes you feel better, you’ll have to do something _really bad_ to fuck this up.”

          “How bad we talkin’?” he asked with an amused smirk, but his eyes seemed very serious.

          “Kill someone I love or care about,” I shrugged. “And all the usual relationship killers: cheating, abuse, leaving the toilet seat up.”

          “Killing seems like the only problem,” he winked, and I rolled my eyes. “But I know your list of people you care about, and I can’t see myself going after them.”

          “Good,” I whispered. “Because if you did, I’d have to kill you myself.”

          “Oh yeah?” he grinned. “And how would you go about doing that?”

          “I can’t tell you,” I giggled. “Then you’d be able to prepare.”

          “What could you possibly do?” he hummed, and my heart jumped as the look in his eyes became sorta malicious. “Say I just killed someone, premeditated, what could you do that I wouldn’t be ready for?”

          My mouth hung open uselessly as his stare left me speechless. My dumbfounded look made him smile wickedly and I couldn’t help but smile slightly. I wasn’t shocked by the conversation, we had discussions about death and violence regularly, but the way he was looking at me was new. I wasn’t prepared to have Ryan stare me down like a cat playing with it’s prey, or to thoroughly enjoy it. I racked my brain for ideas, planning scenarios like this was my job after all, but every time his head or eyes twitched it wiped all progress.

          “Come on _Willow Davies_ ,” he teased, and I bit back a whimper as his arms tightened around me. “What could you do against a ruthless killer?”

          “I mean, my best option would be to hire someone to do it for me,” I finally managed to croak out, and he let out a loud laugh.

          “You said you’d do it yourself. Now do you mean to tell me you don’t know how to use a gun?” he asked, and I barely heard him over my racing heart.

          “I know _how_ to use a gun,” I snapped back. “I just haven’t been to a range to practice in a long time, and all I have is a pistol.”

          I gasped and giggled as Ryan suddenly pushed me down against the couch and stared down at me as he positioned himself to kneel over me.

          “Fine then,” he smirked. “Hire a hitman. Who you callin’?”

          “Well, assuming I would be angry and vengeful,” I mused. “I guess I’d go to the top. Someone who’s good, and possibly someone who would make you suffer a bit on the way.”

          “Willow,” he gasped in mock shock before putting a hand on either side of my shoulders and leaning down over me. “You’d sick Vagabond on me?”

          “You just killed an innocent person whom I love,” I huffed. “You deserve to suffer for every day they’re no longer here.”

          “Assuming they’re innocent,” he winked.

          “What?” I asked. “You go out and kill not so innocent people often?”

          I regretted what I said immediately, but my criminal theory was only bolstered by the cautious anger that flashed in his eyes momentarily.

          “If I had to,” he said quietly, and I waited a few moments to see what he’d do next, but he just continued to stare at me.

          “Would you kill me if I came after you?” I asked, trying to swing the topic back to something less upsetting for him.

          His stare softened and he started to giggle as a wide grin spread across his face.

          “What?” I asked indignantly as he rested his head on my shoulder and practically cried as his laughter grew louder.

          “The image,” he managed to get out as he laughed hysterically. “Of you. With a gun. Threatening me. I can’t. _I can’t!_ ”

          “Fuck off!” I spat and tried to wriggle out from under him as he broke down. “I can be threatening!”

          “I know you can,” he wheezed. “But I just can’t with this.”

          I started to thrash around more, but his laughter was infectious and he was too heavy for me to move in this position, so I just frowned and did my best not to laugh too hard with him.

          “Stop making fun of me,” I whined and he snorted before breaking down into more laughter.

          I sighed as he continued to shake with laughter and just buried my face into his hair while I waited for him to collect himself. After a few minutes he finally calmed down enough to be able to sit up again, and I rolled my eyes as he tried not to smile when he looked at me.

          “I hate you,” I huffed as I tried to ignore how much I wanted him to lay back down on me because his weight made me feel comfortable instead of claustrophobic.

          He smiled, but it was sweet and caring rather than mocking and I sighed as he leaned on one elbow so that he could cup my cheek with the other hand.

          “No you don’t,” he murmured.

          “No. I don’t,” I whispered and pulled him down for a kiss.

          “So, I take it you _don’t_ want me to get off you and go to bed?” he said smugly as he settled back down onto me and I sighed as the odd sense of safety washed over me.

          “No. Not just yet,” I smirked and gently bit his lip.

          “What ever you want Willow,” he sighed before ending the conversation with a passionate kiss.


	4. Theories Proven

          The sound of two people talking was the first thing I heard as sleep let go of me and I took a deep breath while stretching. My eyes remained closed and I blindly reached out across the bed looking for Ryan, wanting to hold him before I fell back to sleep for another hour or so. His hand touched my back gently and I rolled over to lay across his chest. He pulled the covers up to my chin and I sighed as sleep crept back into my mind.

          “There, now you’ve seen her. Happy now Geoff?” Ryan’s voice rumbled loudly in my ear and staved off the sleepy fog. “Now do me a favor and fuck off so I can enjoy this a bit more.”

          “I know I said that I just wanted to see the woman who’s turned my muscle into a puddle,” a male voice huffed quietly, and a low rumble emanated from Ryan. “But we have bigger problems that we need to deal with before you can leave this building.”

          “And what problems would there be?” Ryan asked as his sleepy tone gave way to a much more serious one.

          “Does she know?” the other man asked simply.

          “No,” Ryan muttered quietly after a long silence and he started to pet my hair.

          “How did you explain those then?” the other voice continued, and his question made Ryan shift uncomfortably.

          “She hasn’t seen them yet,” he huffed. “I managed to keep my shirt until after she fell asleep.”

          Sleep was no longer on my mind as I eavesdropped on their conversation, and the familiar sound of the elevator kicked on in the background. The other man was about to say something more when he stopped suddenly, like he had been shushed, and Ryan’s hand pressed firmly against my back.

          “Willow?” he asked cautiously, and I realized that I was holding my breath.

          “Ryan?” I responded slowly and he groaned as I sat up slightly.

          His breath hitched as I took a good look at his bare torso and he winced as my eyes slowly took in the numerous scars that covered his chest. My hand gently touched a newer on that looked like a bullet hole in his shoulder when I heard a door fly open.

          “Willow Davies!” a woman’s shrill voice cried out before I could verbally confirm my criminal theory.

          “Where the _fuck_ are you?” Linda shouted and I could hear her stomp into my apartment across the hall.

          I began to groan and sink back into Ryan’s chest, my whine changing pitch every time she shouted for me.

          “I know you’re here! Your car is still outside! Now come out!” she exclaimed from what sounded like my living room.

          I grabbed my phone from the night stand and huffed as I opened it and saw the dozen messages she had left me. I opened my messaging app and responded.

_No._

          “You’re a fucking dick,” Ryan chuckled as I stared off into space and listened for her response.

          “‘No’?” she shrieked. “What are you, twelve? Get your ass out here and face the music sweetheart.”

_I’m comfortable and can hear you just fine._

          Both men giggled quietly as Linda huffed loudly and stomped to Ryan’s front door.

          “Gig’s up Willow!” she shouted through the door. “You and your boy toy got caught in the park last night. Pictures are all over the place!”

          “That was the big thing I needed to talk to you about,” the other man sighed quietly as he scrolled through his phone. He was in a simple pair of jeans and a black shirt with geometric designs on them and his most distinguishing feature was the well-manicured beard and mustache he was sporting.

          “You give me shit for my clothes, but he’s allowed he walk around looking like a railroad tycoon?” I huffed as the tattooed man passed his phone to Ryan.

          “I’m a little higher up than you sweetheart,” Geoff smirked as Ryan looked through what I assumed were the pictures that had been taken last night.

          “You can’t see my face or any other important features,” Ryan sighed and turned the phone for me to see. “We should be good.”

          “That’s what I thought. I just wanted to check with you,” Geoff nodded as I looked through the blurry photos from last night. Ryan was right. If I didn’t know it was him, there was no way I could tell who he was from these shots.

          “You can hardly tell it’s _me_ ,” I mumbled as I looked at the black and white blob that was supposed to be me. Then I flipped to the next photo and there was a really clear shot of my face but Ryan’s was obstructed by my hair.

          I turned it for him to see and raised an eyebrow. He let out a long sigh as he stared at it.

          “That one is a little close for comfort, but I still say I’m good,” Ryan grunted.

          “You’re not going to ask why it’s so important that no one sees his face?” Geoff asked cautiously.

          “I have an idea,” I murmured and jumped at the almost angry glare Ryan shot at me as my ringer went off. “Calm down. I’ll explain after I deal with Linda.”

          I answered my phone as soon as I finished my sentence.

          “You’re seriously going to hide in there?” she grunted as I put her on speaker phone so I could lay back down on Ryan’s chest.

          “You’re my publicist, not my mother. I’ll stay in here if I want to,” I snapped back as Geoff quietly tiptoed to close the door so that she couldn’t hear much outside of what came through my phone.

          “Fine, whatever. Be that way, but we need to talk about your little fling,” she huffed impatiently.

          “What about it?” I asked as I started to twirl some of Ryan’s chest hair around my finger.

          “Don’t pull that shit on me Willow,” she snapped, immediately picking up on what I was doing. “Just because you have a master’s in psychology, doesn’t mean you can pass that bullshit over my head without me noticing. I will not provide a nice list of things for you to easily argue away. I want you to fucking explain why you’re contradicting yourself!”

          “What do you mean?” I asked innocently.

          “Do you remember what you said the last time we talked about him?” she asked back and I chewed on my lip in frustration as she sidestepped my attempt to get her to talk while I thought of excuses.

          “That he was attractive and growing on me?” I responded, totally dancing around what she wanted me to say out loud in front of him.

          “I’ll refresh your memory for you,” she spat, and I felt my anxiety begin to well up in my chest. “How about the part where you thought he was hiding something from you? Something big and important? Something that was enough for you to be cautious of?”

          “I think I’ve figured it out,” I said stiffly as the two men practically turned to stone at her words. I saw Geoff’s crossed arms twitch towards something on his hip. I quickly muted Linda and leveled my gaze on the man standing beside the bed.

          “You pull that gun on me and I’ll make sure the whole damn building knows it was you,” I said slowly, ignoring the need to run from the pistol grip that peeked out from between his jeans and shirt. Ryan was still stiff under me, but if I didn’t look at him maybe I could pretend he would protect me from the man that was probably his crew boss.

          “Do enlighten me then!” Linda scoffed as I unmuted her, not realizing what just happened. “Tell me, Willow Davies, what do you think he’s hiding?”

          “Nothing I can’t deal with,” I hummed happily despite the terror that was welling up in my chest. I was hoping to have this conversation with Ryan in private.

          “Don’t think you can get away with that vague bullshit,” she barked, and I winced as her tone made me start shaking. I wanted to hide under the covers and go back to sleep in Ryan’s arms, but he remained stiff and silent so my brain immediately threw that hope out the window.

          “I don’t think I can get away with it,” I said slowly in an attempt to hide my quivering voice. “But it’s all you’re getting until I can figure it out on my own.”

          I hung up and the room was silent, except for my shaking breathing as we waited for Linda to leave. Luckily, she had dealt with me for a long time and knew when to cut her loses. She swore up and down as she entered the elevator and left me alone with the two silent gang members. They were kind enough to let me come down from my panic attack and I curled up beside Ryan, desperate for him to wrap his arms around me but too afraid to try.

          “What do you think I’m hiding?” Ryan asked seriously after I had stopped shaking. I cautiously peered out from the pillow I had buried my face in and almost started crying as, for the first time in the month I had known him, I couldn’t read his eyes.

          “You really think I wouldn’t recognize a criminal when I saw one?” I whispered, and his breath hitched. “Almost seven books of crew content have made me very familiar with the signs.”

          “Do you know what crew I’m in? Do you know who I am?” he continued, calm and confident.

          “No,” I murmured. “And I don’t want to.”

          “Why not?”

          “Because I’m not dumb,” I huffed. “I recognize that I’m safer if I don’t know anything more.”

          “And you’re okay with this?” Geoff asked just a little too loudly, giving away his anxiety. “You’re okay with dating a criminal? With not knowing what he does when he leaves this apartment?”

          “He’s clearly good at whatever he does,” I cut the older man off. “Not only was it not blatantly obvious, but after your concern over the pictures it’s very clear that I wouldn’t recognize him ‘while at work’ anyway.”

          “I’m perfectly okay with what ever form of criminal activity you throw his way,” I continued, addressing Geoff directly. “This place is a shit hole, and I lost faith in the humanity of this city a long time ago. _So what_ if first man to approach me for a serious relationship in _years_ kills cops and robs banks?”

          “Those cops stare at me every time I stop in to ask questions for a story and don’t even hide their conversations about wanting to take me into a cell and have their way with me,” I continued and sat up as I stared down the older man. “Sure, those bankers offered to fund my first few books, for a blowjob of course. Ryan could be Vagabond for all I care, at least I’m more than a hot piece of ass to him.”

          The two men shared a long glance and I shuddered, the memory of all those men that were supposed to protect me wanting to rip me to shreds for a good lay reigniting my panic attack. I inhaled sharply and turned to hide under the covers before I started crying but was cut off by a pair of arms wrapping around me and pulling me into a heavily scarred chest.

          “Willow,” Ryan whispered as he laid back onto the bed.

          His tight hug squeezed a shaky breath from me and I felt the tears start to fall. He had experienced one of my panic attacks before, so I wasn’t afraid to let it out around him, but we weren’t alone.

          “I’ll leave you to figure out if you’re okay with this Rye,” Geoff said only kind of awkwardly. “We didn’t have anything planned for today anyway, so don’t worry about coming in.”

          Ryan said a quiet thank you and Geoff started to leave when something reminded me of who else Ryan worked with.

          “Geoff,” I called out before I heard the door close. “Tell Michael thanks for being a great wingman. And that he can go fuck himself.”

          “In the same sentence?” the older man said back, and Ryan chuckled as he brushed my hair away from my cheek before giving it a kiss.

          “Yeah. He’ll understand,” I grinned through my tears.


	5. Hiding

          Two months later I was in my apartment washing dishes after lunch, or at least trying to. Ryan was making it hard as he kept kissing my neck because he knew that his stubble tickled, and his wandering hands certainly didn’t help either.

          “If you leave me alone, I will finish sooner and you can do this all you want,” I smiled and ended with a squeak as I tried to shift away from his rough chin, but he had wrapped his arms around my torso and I was pinned to the counter in front of the sink.

          “But this is so much more fun,” he teased and kissed my ear, which made me shiver and I drop the fork I was trying to rinse off.

          I sighed and pulled the drain for the sink, giving up on trying to do this while he was in this mood.

          “Party pooper,” he huffed but I could feel his smile against my neck and his warm breath made me shiver again.

          If I could go back in time and tell myself from four years ago that I would be happily dating a criminal who’s only goal seemed to be making me happy and driving me mad with desire, past me would have laughed in my face. The first few weeks had been a whirlwind of sex and cuddles as he did everything in his power to please me, and I had plenty of time to appreciate him while he slept. Past me would have laughed even harder if I tried to describe Ryan to her.

          I had been so jaded by all the creeps who approached me thinking I wanted to be thrown around like the lovers in my stories, or who thought that they could easily over power me because of my size, someone like Ryan would have immediately set off red flags for my hyper paranoid younger self. Early twenties Willow would have never trusted the large man who was currently sucking a hickey into my shoulder.

          All the sketchy cops and shady bankers had turned me away from trusting men, no matter how kind and attractive the appeared to be, but my eyes rolled with pleasure as one Ryan’s arms let go of me so that he could grab a hold of my hip and the other gently wrapped around the front of my shoulders. Younger me would panic at being put in this position but I knew that, in his arms, I was the safest I could ever be.

          “You’ve only been gone for a week Dear,” I teased as his hips rubbed into my backside. “You’re not _that_ desperate, are you?”

          “I wasn’t until I saw you humming and dancing while you cleaned,” he sighed. “Then I remembered that I’ve been stuck in a room with Gavin for five days.”

          Something had gone south with a heist and the crew had to go into hiding while the heat died down, or at least that’s what Trevor told me earlier this week. Maybe it was because I was tired and on my way to a meeting that was _way_ too early in the morning, but the fact that the guard to my floor was a member of their crew was more shocking than the idea of Ryan having to go into hiding.

          I had gotten used to a lot since I revealed the at I knew what Ryan did for money. Now that he didn’t have to sneak around, and the fact that we almost always shared a bed anymore, I was very familiar with the sounds of him coming home at all hours of the night. He had also taken to wearing his pistol on his hip, even on days we spent alone together. I had watched him get ready in the mornings and as he put his clothes on in a sleepy auto-pilot, I could tell that it was second nature for him to put on the concealed holster before his jeans.

          Even his smattering of scars didn’t faze me anymore, and one night I had even gotten him to tell me how he got some of the older ones. He was a little startled when I asked as I was straddling his hips and running my fingers across his stomach, but he gladly told me about the ones he had gotten in his early years as a gun for hire. If I cared enough I could go back and fact check him, and maybe even figure out who he was now, but I was content just knowing that he was in a well establish crew that was more than capable of bringing him home safely to me.

          “What?” Ryan snapped as I laughed at the way his hips were desperately grinding into me. “Didn’t you miss me?”

          “Of course I missed you Rye,” I grinned and sighed happily as he bit my neck. “But unlike you, I’ve been able to take care of myself in your absence.”

          I had masturbated once while he was gone, more to help me fall asleep than out of desire for him, but I knew it would set him off and was immediately rewarded with a low growl as he roughly shoved me against the counter. He wasn’t afraid to push me around after we sat down and discussed our boundaries. He knew I would tell him if I wanted to be handled gently, which he did for the most part anyway but then there were moments like this where his own desire was more important than mine.

          “Lucky you,” he rumbled as I was lifted off the floor enough for him to pin my hips to the counter with his and let go of my shoulder so that it could join the other hand.

          “Ryan,” I moaned as he continued to grind against my thin leggings.

          “Yes Willow?” he hissed before removing his hands and supporting my weight entirely on his hips. I gasped as he rolled his hips up into me so that I fell forward and had to catch myself on the edges of the sink.

          “Am I doing something you like? Something you can’t do _yourself_ while I’m out working?” he teased as he replaced his hands to pull me back into his eager thrusts.

          “Ryan,” I whimpered again. “God, I missed you.”

          “Oh, now you miss me,” he snapped playfully. “I offer up my dick and suddenly your own hands aren’t enough. Is that all I am to you?”

          “Ryan, you know that’s not true,” I whined as he continued to dry hump me.

          I gasped in surprise then dissolved into giggles as he suddenly backed away and spun me around before picking me up and setting me on the counter next to the sink. I howled with laughter as he snapped at the air in front of my chest, teeth clacking together loudly.

          “Too late. You’ve hurt my feelings,” he whined and looked up at me with his best doe eyes. “You better start sucking up to earn my affection back.”

          “Rye-bread,” I grinned and took his face in my hands as he smiled back up at me. “You know I love you.”

          I shuddered as the words passed my lips, still so foreign and yet they felt so comfortable. Ryan sighed, and his eyes fluttered closed before he rested his forehead between my breasts as his arms wrapped around my waist.

          “I love you too,” he whispered back and pressed a kiss into my sternum. “That’s what I missed the most. Your voice whispering sweet things to me.”

          “Awe,” I smiled and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll keep that in mind next time I want to drive you wild. I’ll start working sweet nothings into my repertoire of dirty pillow talk.”

          “How’s this work for you?” I mused. “I’ve missed you so much Ryan. Every night I hoped you would wake me up with soft kisses and gentle hugs. Every bump of the building settling made me hope it was you coming in to blow me away with amazing sex. I’ve ached to feel your arms around me while I fall asleep.”

          “You have such a way with words,” he teased. “You should write books.”

          “You think so?” I grinned. “You think some loser trapped in a cabin with his coworkers would read that garbage?”

          I squealed as his teeth sank into my shoulder with a low growl.

          “That loser in the cabin has spent the last five days thinking about all the ways he wants to ravage his mouthy girlfriend and is using that garbage as a starting point.”

          “Oh, so he’s unoriginal _and_ desperate,” I sneered.

          I was promptly thrown over his shoulder and his low chuckle reminded me exactly how much I missed having him around. His fingers splayed out as he held onto my thigh and walked towards my door, totally unbothered by my flailing and giggling.

          “I’ve spent the better part of the past week in an unfamiliar bed, with a prick who wouldn’t stop whining about missing his own girlfriend as if he was the only one who was away from home!” he exclaimed and his body rolled with quiet laughter as I tried to wiggle free. “I’ll be damned if I have to sit here and take your shit any longer! I’m going to my room, fucking you silly, sleeping for a few hours, then taking you out to dinner!”

          “Oh no,” I whined in a low monotone and stopped resisting as he threw open my door.

          “God damnit!” Ryan exclaimed as someone in the hall outside exploded with laughter. “Why won’t you people leave me alone?”

          “Bad time?” I heard Michael croon as I groaned into Ryan’s back.

          “Go fuck yourself,” I huffed as I stared down at the knife that Ryan kept in the back of his waistband.

          “You left your backpack at the hideout,” the younger man snickered, and I heard a thump as he tossed it to the floor.

          “Thanks Michael,” Ryan sighed as set me down upright and I clung to him as the blood rushed from my head. “Though there was nothing in it that needed to be returned immediately.”

          “I might have just wanted to see you,” he shrugged, and I snorted. “Or maybe I stopped by because Geoff was too afraid to come tell you himself.”

          “What’s wrong?” Ryan said seriously, his tone dropping as he tensed up and subconsciously held me closer to his chest.

          “We might have to go back,” Michael murmured, and I rested my forehead on Ryan’s chest as he let out an angry growl.

          “I thought the heat had died,” Ryan huffed.

          “It did,” Michael said as he shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets then shrugged. “But now it’s back. Like they knew we were back or something.”

          Ryan let out a long sigh before giving me a tight hug and resting his head on mine.

          “When?” he asked after a moment.

          “Don’t know yet. We’re waiting for more information,” Michael sighed sadly. “But chatter keeps saying something about tailing us. So we _will_ have to lay low again, and even longer this time.”

          “God damnit,” Ryan muttered quietly.

          “You should make the best of the next few days,” Michael sighed and winked. “It could be awhile before we can be home and comfortable.”

          “You too Michael,” Ryan nodded. “I’m sure Lindsay missed you.”

          “I’ve been texted a thousand reminders of how much she misses me,” the younger man smirked waved. “So I better get going before she sends a search party.”

          Ryan held me tightly until the elevator sounds stopped, then he picked me back up and carried me into his apartment.

          “You heard the man,” he said with an evil smirk, like he hadn’t just been warned to watch his back. “I’ve gotta fuck you every way imaginable, so I can be better prepared to deal with being away.”

          I wanted to stop him and make him explain what was going on, but we weren’t even in his room yet and he was already tearing my shirt away. I couldn’t help but giggle as he threw me onto the bed and I bounced a few times as he peeled off his own shirt. My worry ebbed away as he climbed on top of me and showered me in compliments, his low affirmations of love and desire making my mind go fuzzy. The final nail in the coffin was when his eyes met mine, and he looked at me with the same look he gave me every time we made love.

          Like he was constantly amazed that I was letting him touch me, and it tugged on my heartstrings. If only he knew exactly how much I sympathized with that feeling, but the way his hands were expertly sliding down my torso made my eyes flutter shut. I tried to keep them open, but he knew exactly how to make me melt and was pushing all the buttons he could.

          “I love you so much Ryan,” I whimpered.

          “I love you too Willow. More than I ever thought I could,” he whispered back before silencing me with a kiss.

*~*~*~*

          I glanced at the clock on the stove top and clutched my tea in my hands.

          3:23am.

          I sighed sleepily and hopped up onto the counter, glad I had thought to pull Ryan’s shirt on as the cool countertop tried to chill my bare bottom through the fabric. I leaned back against the cabinets and stared off into the darkness. I was starting to lose sleep over whatever it was that they were waiting for, the possibility of Ryan leaving again made my chest tighten. I had tried to talk about it several times since the other day, but every time I tried he promptly changed the topic or distracted me with kisses knowing full well that I would drop it if he hit the right spots. But it didn’t stop me from worrying later.

          I just wanted to know what was going on, if I needed to be afraid for my own safety, and if I could help him in any way. I may not have any _actual_ experience in a crew, but I knew the in’s and out’s better than most people outside the criminal sphere, or at least that’s what he and Michael told me. I just wanted to do everything I could to protect him, to make sure he came home to me with most of his pieces. I wasn’t dumb enough to think that I could keep him from getting hurt, I just wanted him alive.

          “Willow baby?” his tired voice called out from somewhere in the darkness and I inhaled sharply as he startled me out of my thoughts.

          “What are you doing up?” he murmured as he sleepily padded over to me, his bare feet hardly making a sound on the hardwood.

          “I can’t sleep,” I sighed and kissed his forehead as he lazily wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his chin on my sternum so that he was looking up at me.

          “I gathered that,” he smirked. “What’s keeping you awake?”

          “I just want to know what’s going on,” I sighed heavily, and his eyes closed as his face melted into a blank expression. “I want to be prepared.”

          “Prepared for what?” he sighed back and sat up so that he was face to face with me.

          “I don’t know!” I snapped and my chest started to ache with anxiety. “Anything really. I know I said I didn’t care about your crew and all that, and I don’t, but I do want to be prepared if it starts to bleed over and affect me.”

          “I’m not going to let anything, or anyone hurt you Willow,” he said calmly and gently brushed some hair away from my eyes. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

          “I still want to know what to watch for!” I pressed on as the ache began to really hurt. “Ryan you can’t just disappear into the forest and expect me not to worry!”

          “This doesn’t happen all the time,” he consoled and held me tighter. “We’ve never had to do something like this before. Individually, yeah. Sometimes we fuck up and gotta fall of the face of the planet until it’s safe to come back, but this is the first time the whole crew has had to hide.”

          “What if you can’t hide?” I asked, my voice cracking as I finally broke. “What if it all catches up to you before you can get to safety? What if you die out there before I can say goodbye?”

          My gasp for air turned into a cry of pain as I rambled into that very real possibility. Ryan quickly took the cup from my shaking hands and set it out of the way as he pulled me off the counter and enveloped me in a tight embrace.

          “I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “I know I said I could handle this, I promise you I can, but I _need to know what’s going on._ I have to be ready for anything that happens. To me. To you. _To us._ ”

          I started to scream into his chest as my worry turned into full-blown panic as all the possibilities flashed before my eyes. I lost track of time as I sobbed and clung to him, and it wasn’t until I had begun to come down that I realized that he was shaking too.

          “Rye?” I choked out as peeled my wet cheeks from his shoulder and I almost broke down again as I saw tears streaming down his cheeks, but where I was worried, it looked like he was seething with anger.

          “I promise you I’ll come back as soon as I can,” he growled, his voice shaking as he too choked back tears. “I promise that I’ll tell you everything when I do. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

          He held my face tightly in his hands as he pressed a hard, salty kiss into my lips and trembled along with me.

          “I promise I’ll make every one of those motherfuckers _pay_ for upsetting you.”

*~*~*~*

          I awoke the next morning to the sound of hurried footsteps and my heart dropped.

          “Ryan?” I called out and the movement stopped.

          “Stay in bed baby,” he cooed gently as he opened the door and saw me throwing the covers off.

          “When do you think you’ll be back?” I asked as he sat on the edge of the bed and tucked the covers back around me when I refused to do so myself.

          “Geoff says another few days, but we’re not totally sure,” he sighed sadly. “We still don’t know how much they have on us.”

          After we had both relaxed some, Ryan explained as much of the situation to me as he could without having to tell me everything. He wanted to save that for a long, rainy day when he came back so we could curl up on the couch while I interrogated him. He told me that there was a breach in security, and that someone from another crew got a hold of some of their personal information. What exactly they had on them was still a mystery, but they thought that their identities may have been compromised so they needed to hide until they knew what was taken.

          I looked at him in the dim light that filtered in from the living room and smiled at how normal he looked. Jeans, plain t-shirt, and ponytail. All the things I had grown so used to in the last few months, but they gave me no clues as to who he was at work. I cycled through all the major crews I could think of, but none seemed to fit him even though he said he was in a powerful crew.

          “I don’t want to do this,” Michael groaned as he appeared in the doorway. “But we need to go Rye.”

          “I know,” Ryan whispered before leaning in and giving me a passionate kiss.

          “Something to remember me by,” he smirked before standing.

          “I love you,” I said, and I saw Michael give him a sly look. “Try to come back with most of your parts.”

          “I love you too,” Ryan smiled at me over his shoulder and ignored the quiet ‘awe’ Michael hummed. “And I’ll do my best.”

          I laid back down and clutched his pillow to my face as I listened to him walk away. I winced as the lights turned out and the door closed behind him and started to shake as their footsteps faded down the hall. I cried quietly and reminded myself that he’d be home soon.

*~*~*~*

          But soon never came, and few days turned into weeks with next to no communication with him. I had been in a meeting when he last called to let me know that they would have to be gone for at least another few days, and I hated myself for not running into the hall to talk to him. I just wanted to talk to Ryan and let him know that I was brushing up on my self-defense, and that I would be ready to fight the whole city if it meant bringing him back home. I wouldn’t actually have the nerve to go out and do that on my own, but I knew it would make him laugh and right now that’s all I wanted to hear.

          When he had told me what was going on, he reluctantly told me that I might be in danger. That some of the files that had been copied might have contained my information. He didn’t have to explain why they had it on file, I knew that it paid to have all the information they could get on people that got close to the crew just in case they turned on them. So rather than let it bother me too much, I started my martial arts classes again and was doing much better than I expected considering my last training session was a little over a year ago.

          I was listening to his voicemail for the thousandth time one evening when I heard the elevator ding down the hall. I tripped over the blankets I was wrapped in as I rolled off my couch and ran to the door.

          “Babe? Is that you?” I called out eagerly and threw open the door without thinking.

          “’Fraid not Miss Davies,” a strange man dressed in all black smirked as I stood in the doorway like a deer in the headlights.

          I tried to slam the door on the two men who darkened my doorway, but the first one caught it with his forearm and winced as he threw it back open. I turned on my heels and made for my room, but a hand reached out and grabbed my shirt and yanked me back. I spun around, fingers curled like claws as I swung in the direction of my assailants.

          I felt flesh gather under my nails as I connected with one of them, and he howled in pain as I raked my hand across his face. Another hand reached out to try to cover my mouth before I could scream, and I instinctively bit down on it. There was a satisfying crunch as my teeth sank deep into the muscle between the man’s thumb and forefinger.

          “Son of a bitch!” he exclaimed and pulled his had from my mouth, but instead of being too shocked to react, he grabbed my shoulder and threw me to the ground.

          My forehead cracked against the floor and my vision exploded with white and black stars as I writhed weakly. The world spun as I was lifted into the air and carried out of my apartment. I blinked and tried to focus on the other man, who was clutching his right eye and pressing a phone to his other ear.

          “We got her Boss,” he grunted. “Fucking cunt’s got some fight in her. We’ll have to take precautions.”

          I tried to scream, but my concussion turned it into a low gurgle and my kicks only translated to weak twitching.

          “No idea whose girl she is,” the other man huffed as my vision went totally black. “We’ll raid the apartments and try to find clues.”


	6. Hostage Situation

          When my eyes fluttered open, I was met by a thick black sack that only let in enough light for me to tell that it was the following day. The soft white light and freezing breeze told me that it was probably very early in the morning.

          “Oh good,” a man sighed happily. “You didn’t kill her after all.”

          I slowly stretched out my arms, and the sound of metal on pavement rang loudly in my ears as I wobbled to my hands and knees. When I started to tip over as my head spun I tried to spread my hands out to catch myself, but handcuffs stopped me short.

          “Woah, hey!” a light female voice said as she caught me and settled me down in what felt like her lap. “You need to take it easy. Here, let’s get this shit out of the way.”

          The sack was carefully removed, and I squinted in the sudden brightness. My face scrunched up and I felt something covering my mouth shift. Once I could focus I was met with gentle hazel eyes that were looking down at my face in confusion.

          “Why the actual fuck does she have a muzzle on?” another, slightly harsher female voice asked, and I slowly moved my head to look at her.

          A heavy-set woman with bright red hair had an almost horrified look in her eyes as I reached up and felt the Hannibal Lector mask that covered the bottom half of my face. I grinned and looked over to where the men’s voices had come from and made eye contact with the man from last night as he scowled at me.

          “I didn’t go easy,” I croaked and relaxed into the brunette’s lap. “Took a bite out of his hand.”

          “God you’re so _his_ ,” the first woman giggled quietly.

          “She doesn’t know Meg,” the other woman hissed and leaned in. “I’ve been told that she’s been kept in the dark.”

          “Upon my request,” I added before Meg could explode as her chest puffed and cheeks turned red. “Though now it’s clear that being in the dark couldn’t protect me like we had hoped.”

          “So, what _do_ you know?” Meg asked as she carefully inspected the lump on my forehead.

          “I know that _he_ ,” I quickly censored myself as I became aware that the men were listening and waiting for me to say names. “Works for a big crew and does shady shit. That’s about it. I’ve only met two others in the crew.”

          “Jesus Christ,” Meg sighed and shook her head. “You’re in for a surprise when Vav and the others show up.”

          “‘Vav’?” I asked. “Like Fake AH Crew ‘Vav’?”

          “Yeah,” Meg smiled happily as she thought of the man. “That’s why we’re here. You, me, and Linsday are the girlfriends of the Fakes, and they’re trying to use us to get to them.”

          I stared up at her in shock as my mind failed to process this information. _Girlfriends of the Fakes?_ Ryan was a member of the Fake AH Crew? I had done some basic research on them when I first started out writing my own version of Los Santos, so I knew a little bit about them and their tactics. That and their constant media presence kept me up to date on what crazy heist and body count they managed to pull off, but beyond that I knew very little about the city’s most notorious crew.

          I racked my brain as I tried to match him to the remaining members. If Meg was dating Vav, that left Mogar, Shannon, Lazer, Lil J, and Vagabond. Lazer had to be Geoff, Ryan’s interactions with him made it painfully clear that he was the Fake’s boss, and unless Ryan did some seriously impressive costume work, he couldn’t possibly be Shannon. The redheaded woman of the crew was far too feminine for him to pull off, but then again I had never seen Ryan in shorts. The fact that Ryan was a foot taller than me made it unlikely that he was Lil J and I’m pretty sure Lil J shaved his head.

          That left Mogar and Vagabond: two thirds of the muscle of the operation and the two that racked up the most kills. I was oddly unbothered by the thought that Ryan was a killer. I had caught glimpses of his temper when we first started talking, but he was very good at not losing it when I was nearby. I wouldn’t be surprised if he could control it so well _because_ he was able to take it out at work. All I knew was that I had pushed a lot of his buttons, and the worst I had ever gotten was an intense glare that made me gasp and scramble a way. He apologized profusely for scaring me, even though I was the one who had instigated. Ryan could be Vagabond or Mogar, but I knew that he would never hurt me.

          “You legit don’t know who your boy toy is!” the man in charge exclaimed humorously. “Well then it’ll be a surprise for both of us because we tore that whole floor to pieces and couldn’t find a damned thing on who he was.”

“You’re Vav’s” he said and pointed to Meg before sweeping his hand to Lindsay. “And you’re Mogar’s but you, Willow Davies, are a mystery.”

          I sat up from Meg’s lap and rubbed my eyes before staring out into the thick fog that enveloped the bridge we were apparently just sitting on, waiting for the Fakes to arrive.

 _Vagabond._ Ryan was _the_ Vagabond. I tried to imagine his bright blue eyes behind that skull mask, but my brain shorted out as I did. Like it refused to believe that my sweet, loving Ryan could also be the blood thirsty Vagabond. I would have to see it to believe it. I snorted at the irony that he enjoyed my Modern Rogue series but didn’t know that he had partially inspired Thomas’ numb and vengeful personality. Maybe that was why he liked it so much. It probably reminded him of himself, and that alone should scare me away.

          Before I could question my own moral compass, the sound of a van coming down the road cut me off and the men who were holding us hostage sprang into action.

          “They don’t know we have Davies yet,” The leader hissed as he roughly picked me up and shoved me away from the approaching vehicle that was still shrouded in fog.

          “You two keep her far enough back that the fog hides her. Nature is on our side today, maybe the dramatics will throw them off enough to give us what we want.”

          I looked over my shoulder at the man who had so roughly grabbed my shoulders and smiled at the man as I looked at the four deep scratches that ran from his left eyebrow to the right side of his chin. He growled in response before turning his glare to the man whose hand I bit.

          “No hurting her!” The leader snapped quietly as the van came to a stop just outside of visibility. “I get the feeling she’s worth a lot to one of them. Why else keep her out of the loop?”

          He walked forward with the last member of his crew, each of them with a gun to Lindsay and Meg’s backs. They stopped at the edge of where I could clearly see them, the fog just starting to blur their features, but Lindsay’s head lit up the area like a beacon. A little farther past them, six figures emerged from the thick mist. I could tell who each form was even though I could only see fuzzy shadows and my heart skipped a beat as I immediately recognized Ryan’s profile holding a large rifle at one end of their lineup.

          I wondered if he saw me through the mist, but as the man behind me shifted I frowned and realized that his larger body was obscuring mine.

          I sighed and closed my eyes as I tried to listen to everything around me. In the distance I could hear the ocean waves crashing against the beach and it gave me a general idea of where we were on the island. There was only one stretch of road that crossed a river that would be empty enough to allow for an interaction like this. Ballsy of them to do this that close to Fort Zancudo, but maybe they were banking on the proximity to keep the Fakes more manageable. Even they weren’t dumb enough to try something near the base, especially with significant others involved.

          “Hello boys and girl!” the leader of the smaller crew piped up, taking a few steps closer to the Fakes so that they could see clearer.

          “Cut the shit,” Geoff’s voice cut through the fog and I relaxed slightly at the familiar gruff tone. “What the fuck do you want? Money?”

          “While money would be nice, it’s not what I’m looking for,” the other man shrugged, and I rolled my eyes as he clearly began his monologue.

          “What I _wanted_ was your names and faces,” he started, his voice dripping with a smug superiority. “I wanted to throw all your information out to the public, watch the Fakes fall to ruin, and use the chaos to move me and my boys up the ladder. _But_ your computer nerds are good, and almost everything we managed to get was corrupted to the point that it bricked one of our machines. All we could get out was a few tidbits on your, _extracurricular activities_.”

          “So, I had to get creative,” the cocky bastard continued, and I saw one figure on the end shift uncomfortably as another next to Geoff bounce anxiously. “And here we are. What I want now is for some more material goods in return for your lovely lady friends.”

          “What do you have in mind?” Geoff growled.

          “I want you to transfer ownership of one or two warehouses of my choosing, their entire contents included.”

          The was a long moment of silence and I could tell that Geoff was leaning over to talk to Shannon as the rest of the crew closed their line so that they all could be apart of the discussion. Their hushed argument drifted through the thick air between us and I tried to pull Ryan’s voice out of it, but it looked like he was facing forward to keep an eye on Lindsay and Meg.

          “One,” Geoff huffed in frustration as the huddle parted. “You can have one reasonably loaded warehouse, _after_ you let them go.”

          “How do I know you won’t run as soon as they’re on your side of the bridge?”

          “I’m a man of my word asshole,” Geoff spat. “You’ll get your shit once they’re safe with us.”

          The leader looked to the man he had taken with him then back at the two goons that were standing with me. He motioned for Lindsay and Meg to go, and they ran to the Fakes as the other boss curled his finger towards me.

          “Turney!” One of the figures gasp as Meg was consumed by the fog when she jumped into Vav’s arms. “Did those bastards hurt you?”

          “I’m fine dear,” she sighed loudly as I was pushed forward. “But they have Willow.”

          “What?” Ryan and Geoff roared in unison as I was positioned where the other two women had been standing.

          Now that I was closer, I could see the Fakes in all their glory. Geoff stood in his pressed suit with a shotgun clutched in his hands as he stared at me with wide eyes like the rest of the crew. Lindsay was hiding behind Mogar, who’s curly blond hair poked out around his bear mask and gave Michael away to me. Meg was hanging off a tall, lanky man who must have been Vav, but his huge aviator glasses totally obscured his face. Lil J and Shannon stood on either side of Geoff, colorful bandanna, more aviators and an obnoxious cowboy hat keeping their identities hidden.

          Now that I had a good look at him there was no mistaking Ryan. Even under the leather jacket and mask, I could tell that it was him and I desperately wanted to run into his arms. When I locked eyes with Ryan through the Vagabond mask, I felt happy for a fraction of a second before shying away from the intense look of anger and hatred that he was sending towards my captors.

          “I apologize for her appearance,” the leader sneered. “But she put up a fight and really hurt two of my boys, so I needed to protect my crew. You know how it goes.”

          “You muzzled and handcuffed a five foot nothing woman for hurting two of your men? What could she have possibly done?” Geoff grunted as Ryan’s hands twitched around the grips of his rifle.

          There was a collective hiss as the man I had scratched stepped into view and I grinned behind my mask as a swollen, black hand appeared in my periphery. As soon as they had made their appearance, their boss sent them back into the cover of the fog.

          “I’m sure they deserved it,” Geoff smirked. “What about the bump on her head?”

          “He didn’t take kindly to her trying to bite his thumb off, so she got a little intimate with the floor. Say’s he got her good enough that all she could do was gurgle.”

          I wanted to snap at him, to say something witty and wounding, but now that I had seen Ryan I couldn’t do anything but stare at this unfamiliar side of him. My anxiety was starting to grip my heart as I ached to bury my face in his chest and hear him whisper to me. Vagabond or not, I loved him and after almost a month of not seeing him I was on the verge of tears.

          “So the price for this one is higher,” he continued and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Tack on two more warehouses and she’s all yours.”

          “No,” Geoff said immediately. The other Fakes quickly glanced from their boss to Ryan, who’s face had gone stony just like the day I told him I knew about his career path.

          “No?” the man holding me repeated with a curious lilt in his tone. “Not even going to discuss it?”

          “You can have two warehouses _total_ ,” Geoff reaffirmed. “One for Willow and one for the others.”

          “That’s not fair though. She could have killed my boys,” he sniffed, and I rolled my eyes.

          “It’s fair. One warehouse was worth Lindsay and Meg, so if my math works out one more warehouse would make Willow worth two hostages.”

          “Don’t fuck with me Lazer,” the man spat as he pressed his gun to my cheek.

          I whimpered as the cool metal barrel dug into my skin and the pressure pushed some tears past my defenses. I started to tremble as I tipped dangerously close to having a panic attack. I looked at Ryan, whose face remained stony and unreadable, but he wasn’t looking back at me but over my head instead.

          “Not so bold anymore are you Miss Davies?” my captor hissed and dug his gun into my chin as he shifted his grip on me.

          “Two more warehouses or she dies,” he snapped at Geoff and my eyes widened in horror.

          “That’s a fucking jump,” I whimpered as my flight response kicked in and I struggled against him.

          “Keep fighting my dear,” he hissed and held me tightly. “You’re not going anywhere until they make a decision.”

          “Okay, listen man,” Geoff growled and all the Fakes held up their weapons. “It’s clear that you’re new to this because you don’t threaten the life of a hostage when you’re out gunned. We were gonna play nice and try to do this without bloodshed, but you had to go and get trigger happy. You’re going to cut your loses right now, take the _one_ warehouse, hand Willow over, and go on living. If you hurt her, you and yours won’t live long enough to see her body hit the ground.”

          The bridge went silent and I gulped down sobs as everyone stared each other down.

          “Boss,” one of the men behind me whispered. “Not be stupid. One warehouse is enough to get started. Give her up.”

          “Listen to your crew,” Geoff warned.

          “I have your word?” the floundering man barked.

          “You can take it to the bank.”

          There was a long, tense moment as the sight of the gun nicked my skin and I hissed in pain. He let out a frustrated grunt as he unlocked my handcuffs and reluctantly shoved me towards the firing squad that was pointed towards him. I took off running and slipped between Gavin and Geoff. Meg stepped to the side and caught me as I was ripping off the mask with trembling hands.

          “Definitely doing the optional ending now?” Michael asked without looking away from the men down the bridge. Lindsay’s eyes widened as she stepped back and ushered Meg and I towards the van.

          “Abso-fucking-lutely,” Geoff confirmed. “Vagabond, you get first shot.”

          “My pleasure,” he growled and hearing him speak made me stop in my tracks and stare as he brought the gun up and took aim.

          “What about your word?” The leader shouted as his men took off in a panic.

          “You gave me your word that they wouldn’t be hurt,” Geoff said coolly. “And I don’t deal with people who can’t keep their word.”

          There was a loud bang and I winced as the concussion from Ryan’s rifle smacked me in the face. I had never been near a gun that big when it went off, so I jumped slightly but Ryan stayed solid as the gun kicked back into his shoulder. The leaders head exploded and his body fell to the road deck like a sack of potatoes. Meg looked away and Lindsay let out a long ‘ooo’ before the Fakes marched forward and opened fire down the bridge. The three of us took off and jumped into the van, which was insulated enough that the gunfire was greatly muffled.

          “You look like you’re about to lose your fucking shit,” Lindsay said to me after the gunfire had ended and ignored the angry look Meg shot at her.

          “I’m going to lose my fucking shit once Ryan comes back,” I whimpered and shook violently as I held in the panic attack as best I could.

          “It’s not good to hold that stuff in,” Meg frowned as she threw her arms around me and pulled me into her shoulder. “You’ll give yourself an aneurism or something. Let it out.”

          I shook my head into her shoulder and but her warm, friendly touch was all it took, and I let out a deep, shuddering gasp before throwing my arms around Meg’s waist. I tried to keep it down to loud sobbing, but the day’s fear and my month without Ryan to comfort me made it incredibly hard. I clutched her close to me and a scream tore through my throat as I sobbed uncontrollably. Lindsay threw he arms around me as well and they both began rubbing my back and rocking me back and forth as I trembled like a leaf in a thunderstorm.

          “Willow?” I heard Ryan yell and his familiar footsteps thundered on the pavement as he ran to the van.

          All my mind processed was that Ryan was coming for me, and even though I was practically vibrating, I tore myself free from Lindsay and Meg and twisted around in time to see Ryan appear in the open side door of the van. I threw myself at him and he stumbled backwards into one of the bridges supports as he scooped me out of the air and clutched me to his chest.

          “Willow baby it’s okay. I’ve got you now, you’re alright,” he shuddered as he slid to the ground and cradled me in his lap.


	7. Reunited with the Family

          My nails dug into the leather jacket and I sobbed into his neck as he rubbed my back and shushed and cooed sweetly in my ear. I melted into his chest as his familiar smell filled my nose and I sighed into his neck as one last hard shudder rocked my body. His arms wrapped around me and he gave me a tight hug. I sat upright and wiped the last few tears from my eyes before looking him in the eyes.

          I sighed and gave him a tired smile as the love in his bright blue eyes contrasted with his infamous black skull mask.

          “Surprise,” he said as he rolled his eyes and I could tell he was smiling by the way the corners of his eyes crinkled.

          “That’s one hell of a surprise Rye,” Meg chided from the van. “If I wasn’t familiar with her work, I’d say it’s a cruel surprise.”

          “I can’t say I’m horribly surprised,” I huffed as I pulled myself out of Ryan’s lap and stood on shaky legs. “Now that I think about it, who else would have that many scars and live to tell me about them?”

          “You’d be amazed how good the doctors we get ahold of can be,” he grunted and stood with me. “I owe my life to Kerry a hundred times over.”

          “Don’t tell her that!” Meg snapped. “She just had a panic attack and you go and tell her that you’ve come close to death more than the average man? What’s wrong with you?”

          “I’ve seen his scars,” I smiled at her, appreciating her concern. “I can tell which ones should have been the last. I know he’s in danger 99.9 percent of the time. The panic had more to do with the fact that I was kidnapped and had a gun shoved in my face.”

          “Nice work on that guy’s face by the way,” Ryan whispered in my ear, his rubber mask tickling my cheek. “Would have scarred up real nice.”

          His use of the past tense reminded me of their fate and I looked back down the bridge as the rising sun started to disperse the thick fog. Ryan tried to take my chin between his thumb and index finger and make me look away, but I swatted his hand away and made Lindsay giggle. Shannon, Geoff, and Vav were searching the box truck they had arrived in while Michael and Lil J were tossing the bodies over the edge into the river below.

          “Zancudo is gonna have a fit when those drift by,” I said dryly, and Ryan chuckled.

          “Jesus Christ, she’s just as dead on the inside as you,” Meg huffed, and I looked over my shoulder at her with a smirk, which made her throw her hands up and Lindsay broke out into laughter.

          When I turned back to Ryan, his eyes were mirroring the wicked smirk we were giving her.

          “Come here you,” I grinned and grabbed the collar of his jacket. He huffed in surprise as I kissed the mouth of his mask.

          “Don’t tease me like that,” he whined. “Not while I’m at work.”

          “I don’t fucking believe it,” Meg grinned. “Gavvy said she had domesticated you, but I never thought it was possible.”

          “It’s not possible,” I smirked as his eyes twinkled playfully. “I just fed him once and now he refuses to leave.”

          “Rye! Come over here!” Geoff called out and Ryan’s attention snapped to him like a well-trained dog.

          “That’s domesticating,” I said and was shot an evil look before he jogged to his boss.

          “So, who’s who?” I asked as the Fakes started to peel off their disguises. “I recognize Michael and Geoff, but who are the others?”

          “I though you wanted to be in the dark?” Meg smiled.

          “Well I’ve been thrown into the light,” I rolled my eyes. “I might as well get used to the sights.”

          “The orange and purple abomination is Jeremy. My Gavin is the one currently giving Ryan a hard time over having a heart,” Meg grinned and nodded to the lanky blond who was punching Ryan’s shoulder as he talked to Geoff.

          “Jack is the lovely lady with them, you probably know her as Shannon,” Lindsay continued and pointed to the other redheaded women who appeared to be wiggling her eyebrows at Ryan.

          “Is it really so hard to believe that he loves me?” I asked and Lindsay curled up and kicked her legs with giddy delight as Meg’s jaw dropped.

          “He’s said that?” she gasped.

          “Fuck yeah he has!” Lindsay squeaked, and I couldn’t help but to laugh at her excitement. “Michael told me that he just up and said it without hesitation when they left.”

          “Why is it so shocking?” I laughed as Meg joined in with her own excited grin.

          “Because he’s _Vagabond_ god damnit!” Meg said a little too loudly and caught the Fakes’ attention. “‘The Reaper of Los Santos’ doesn’t exactly scream romance!”

          “I have the royalty checks to prove otherwise,” I snickered. “And I’ll have you know that he is the sweetest man I have ever met.”

          “I don’t know who that says more about,” Lindsay mused. “Ryan, or every other man in the world.”

          “I’ve met a lot of shitty guys. My standards are low,” I winked, and Meg rolled with laughter.

          “What the hell is going on over here?” Michael chuckled as he looked into the van at the two giggling women and Jeremy looked me over with a happy smile.

          “What’s that look for?” I asked him.

          “You make my Battle Buddy happy,” he said simply, and I giggled at the nickname. “And I’m glad to finally meet someone shorter than me.”

          “Willow’s great. Can we keep her?” Lindsay asked as she sat up and booped Michael’s nose.

          “I mean, I think that’s Ryan’s plan,” the man responded as he reached out and squished her face between his hands.

          I started to say something but my heart fluttered, and I shied away from their eyes as my cheeks flushed.

          “Don’t be pinning shit on me,” Ryan huffed as the elder members of the crew and Gavin joined us by the van. “I don’t plan anything.”

          “You don’t plan on keeping Willow?” Meg asked before Gavin knocked her over by dramatically collapsing on top of her.

          “I mean…,” Ryan shrugged as he stood beside me and snaked his arms around my torso. “As long as she wants to keep me.”

          There was a collective ‘awe’ and Jack shot me a wink. I laughed quietly and leaned into his arms. I closed my eyes and tried to capture this moment, the start of something new, because we couldn’t go back.

          “I’d say ‘Let’s go home’ but we can’t,” I sighed. “They tore our apartments to shreds trying to find out who you were.”

          “I know,” he grumbled. “We found all kinds of stuff from our apartments as well as stuff from Lindsay and Meg’s.”

          “You know what that means though?” he asked and his eyes shifted as he wiggled his eyebrows.

          “I have to buy another fucking apartment?” I groaned.

          “No,” Ryan cooed. “It means we get to go into hiding, together this time, until Geoff can find us a new and safe place to live. I might actually be able to enjoy the place without Gavin whining.”

          I bit my tongue and smiled as a thought ran through my mind. He seemed to read my mind because a low chuckle rumbled against me as he leaned down with a glimmer of desire in his eyes.

          “There’s no one for miles,” he hissed in my ear as everyone started to load up into the van. “We don’t have to worry about judgy downstairs neighbors with super hearing.”

          “Don’t get too excited Ryan,” Geoff sighed and gave us a knowing look as he sat in the front seat with Jack. “The other couples got ransacked and need new places too, so they’ll be staying in the safehouse with you.”

          “At least Meg can make Gavin’s damn tea then,” Ryan griped as he flopped down on the floor in the back of the van. It looked like a refurbished news van, so the back was wide open with a few places that were cushioned for sitting and some locked cabinets that I assumed were full of weapons and ammunition.

          “What’s so bloody difficult about getting the temperature right?” Gav snapped back as I was pulled into Rye’s lap. “You make it too hot and it ruins the flavor.”

          “To be fair,” I said and held my hands up. “He’s used to making my tea, which is very strong and better when hot enough to melt the mug. I’m sorry your bland, British sensibilities can’t take the heat.”

          The entire van erupted into laughter as the Brit squawked indignantly. I sank back into Ryan with a smug smile.

          “Is it really better hot?” Ryan asked as he repositioned me to sit between his out stretched legs and wrapped one arm around my waist. “I just assumed that you absorbed the excess heat like a reptile while you waited for it to be drinkable.”

          He giggled as I playfully shushed him, and the rest of the car separated into their own conversations. Ryan talked with Jeremy for awhile and I tried to pay attention and seem engaged, but they were getting into a level of detail that I didn’t know existed for gun parts, so I looked to the rest of the van for entertainment.

          Meg and Gavin were curled up in the far corner by the rear doors and were having a quiet conversation that I couldn’t hear without trying too hard, so I figured it best not to eavesdrop. Geoff was snoring lightly as he rested his head on Jack’s shoulder while she drove us to our destination.

          “So where are we going exactly?” I murmured to the woman driving and tried to not wake Geoff as I leaned against the back of the seat.

          “Our remote safehouse,” she sang as if she were trying to sell the place. “It’s literally in the middle of fucking nowhere and is a little over an hour drive from here, so get comfy.”

          “What do you use it for if it’s so out of the way?” I asked and settled in and was genuinely interested in the uses of such a remote location.

          “Things,” she hummed vaguely as she cast a glance to the sleeping man on her shoulder.

          “Like murder ‘things’ or witness protection ‘things’?” I pried the same way I would the police when I wanted to know something. Giving people options tends to make them more talkative as they’ll want to respond to the more interesting choice.

          “Both,” she said simply and kept her eyes on the road.

          “Ever accidentally cross the two?” I giggled. “Like you bring in someone you’re trying to hide and forget that Ryan’s got his talons in someone in a concrete bunker in the basement.”

          “That’s not at all how that works,” she snickered.

          “Enlighten me then Jack,” I grinned. “I strive for accuracy.”

          “So, you are familiar with his work?” she asked and skirted the topic.

          “Every man, woman, and child knows the Vagabond’s tactics,” I rolled my eyes. “Or at least what the media portrays as his tactics. Now that I know my way around the mind of ‘the master,’ there are somethings that don’t line up.”

          “Such as?” she asked and I hesitated as I realized that she had turned the tables on me. I smirked approvingly and got a wink in response.

          “He would never torture an innocent person,” I continued anyway. “The police like to try and make the public believe that he’s the boogeyman. That he’ll snatch you up and waterboard you for shits and giggles, but I know he would never do that.”

          “He _does_ have a heart behind the blood splatter and face paint,” Jack muttered sweetly and glanced at me. “We give him a lot of shit for it, but it was only a matter of time before he found someone like you.”

          “‘Someone like me’?” I huffed. “Does he have a long history of emotionally compromised and morally questionable authors?”

          “Shit! Sorry Geoffrey,” Jack gasped as her loud laughter startled the boss awake. “But no. He may be a hardened killer, but he craves true romance like you wouldn’t believe. I mean that it was a matter of time before he found someone that he thought was worth risking his heart for.”

          “Awe. I’m worth it,” I smiled, intentionally ignoring the point as I watched Geoff lean against the door with an irritated grunt.

          “God, it’s like you two are a part of the same hivemind,” she snickered.

          “You’re the second person to say that today,” I sighed.

          “Okay, I have a question,” Jack said suddenly and shifted in her seat so that she could lean in and whisper without taking her eyes off the road. “You’re free to tell me to fuck right off if it’s too personal.”

          “I’m intrigued and slightly alarmed,” I whispered. “Do continue.”

          “He loves you. There’s no questioning that, the man turns into a puddle when he talks about you,” she started, and I hummed a quiet awe as I imagined him gushing over me. “But how much does he love you?”

          “That’s an odd and seemingly loaded question,” I said in a low, warning tone.

          “You uh,” she hesitated and glance at Ryan, who had taken off his mask and appeared to be trying to nap. “You think he may want to commit?”

          “Jack,” Geoff snapped. “They started dating, like, three months ago.”

          “But Geoffrey,” she whined as I continued to watch Ryan’s chest gently rise and fall as he dozed off and my aching heart reminded me that I hadn’t fallen asleep with him in almost a month.

          “No ‘but’s,” Geoff scolded. “Michael and Lindsay get married and suddenly you’re pushing every couple in the crew to follow. I get it, you’ve got wedding fever, but you need to let everyone move at their own pace.”

          I glanced back at the couple in question and finally noticed their wedding bands as Lindsay slept in Michael’s lap while he played a game on his phone. Geoff and Jack continued to quietly argue, and I curled up against Ryan as I gave in to the ache in my chest.

          He inhaled sharply at my sudden presence, but he didn’t even have to open his eyes to know it was me and was back to dozing the second I laid comfortably across his chest. I could never sleep in a moving vehicle, so I closed my eyes and listened to Ryan’s steady heartbeat ring in my ear.

          “I get it Jack,” Geoff huffed softly. “You want everyone to be happy. But you gotta let them get there on their own. Especially Rye. You should know better than to push him. He’ll only resist out of spite.”

          I smiled at the accuracy of his statement as I remembered how many times he had turned into an immovable object when I tried to get him to do something he didn’t totally want to. I nuzzled his chest as I tried to sink further into him and make the world disappear so that I could have him alone again. He was clearly comfortable showing our relationship off around the Fakes but I longed for silence, his bare chest, and a warm blanket.

          We hit a bump and it startled Ryan awake, causing him to reflexively grab me with one arm and reach for his rifle with the other. He looked up at me with sleep clouded eyes as I shushed him and gently pulled his hand away from the gun. He gave me a small smile and the black paint he used to darken his eye sockets for the mask made the glimmer in his eyes even more obvious.

          “I missed you,” he whispered and his hand flattened against the small of my back as the other came up to hold my cheek.

          “I missed you too,” I whispered back and closed the gap for a soft kiss.

          He twitched like I had shocked him before pulling me back for more and melting into my lips. He sighed and his whole body physically sank as he relaxed back into the side of the van. Ryan kissed my forehead before he drifted off again, this time falling deep enough that he began to snore lightly.

          “He’s hardly been able to sleep,” Jeremy said quietly from where he too was trying to nap. “Especially after we found out that they had your information the other day and then didn’t answer when he called you. I don’t think he’s slept more than ten hours in the last three days.”

          I sighed sadly and ran a hand through his ponytail, the feeling of his soft hair between my fingers chasing away the ache that our month-long separation had given me. I kissed his nose and Ryan hummed happily in his sleep.

          “You’re holding up very well, all things considered,” Meg chimed in as I shook my head at the adorable ‘crazed killer.’

          “I live in Los Santos,” I murmured. “Death doesn’t faze me anymore.”

          “Well yeah,” Michael snorted. “But what about the whole kidnapping and ‘Oh! My boyfriend is a serial killer!’ part? What prepared you for that?”

          “You clearly have never read any of my books,” I giggled.

          “I’m sure I’ll have nightmares,” I sighed. “But as long as Ryan is nearby, I’ll be fine in the long run.”

          “God damnit, you’re so sappy it fucking makes me sick,” Michael groaned with a small smile.

          “Would you prefer I go on about all the non-sappy things he does for me?” I asked and raised an eyebrow at the curly haired man who snickered and shook his head.

          “God. Now I’m gonna be sick,” Gavin frowned and wrinkled his nose.

          Conversations split off again and I stared down at the black skull that was resting next to Ryan’s hip. It seemed to stare back at me like it was challenging me to be afraid of it and the things it’s seen, but the memories of the last few months easily overpowered the vague, ingrained fear of the Vagabond’s face. Call me fucked up but if it meant having Ryan to hold when I was scared or upset, I was more than willing to sleep in the arms of a murderer.

          I remembered how he had said that he would do anything for the people that he cared about and smiled. That’s all he did in the grand scheme of things. He protected his crew, who were more like family as I watched them interact around me, and I didn’t care if he was on the wrong side of the law. I didn’t care before I knew he was Vagabond, but the additional knowledge did little to sway my opinion. I loved him, and he loved me, no amount of blood could turn me away now.


	8. Starting Anew

          There was a lot more clean-up involved afterwards than I thought. There were affiliated crews that needed to be dealt with, as well as trying to pay off who ever needed to be kept quiet about my disappearance. Between my initial kidnapping and the time I spent at the safehouse while new residences were set up for the couples who had been compromised, I was M.I.A. for about nine days, and Linda did not take it well.

          She also didn’t take being locked in a room with the Fake AH Crew well, while I tried to explain what happened without giving away who I was seeing.

          “You’re fucking a Fake?” she snapped as she sat across the conference table from me, only slightly daunted by the six gang members that were staring her down from behind their disguises.

          “Someone affiliated with the Fakes, yes,” I affirmed, hoping that the wording would be enough to throw her off. “And they would appreciate it if you didn’t impart that knowledge onto anyone else.”

          “Are you threatening me?” she snapped.

          “She’s not,” Geoff piped up from behind me. “But I am.”

          Her eyes widened in horror and all I could do was shrug.

          “I’ll keep my mouth shut,” she huffed. “But after today I’m no longer your publicist. I have a family and don’t want them associated with the Fake AH Crew, even through several degrees of relation. So, do me a favor Willow and lose my number.”

          I was sad to see her go, but I wasn’t about to make her stay. This was my choice, and as I found out it, was easy to get dragged into this no matter how hard you try. Luckily, there was someone else that had been affected by the kidnapping and was more than willing to take Linda’s place.

          “So, what does a publicist _do_ exactly?” Trevor asked and quickly cut in before I could voice my irritation. “I’m just joshin’ you. I’ve got a degree in public relations; your image is safe in my hands.”

          His wide grin and incredible confidence made me shake my head and smile.

          “I thought your degree was in aerospace engineering?” Ryan questioned as I handed over all the information for my social media accounts and all the contacts he would need.

          “Shh,” the younger man hissed and I glared at Geoff.

          “I promise you he’ll take good care of your shit Willow,” the tattooed man shrugged and smiled. “We found the kid running three different crews from behind a computer screen, I think he can manage your work stuff.”

          “It was only two,” Trevor corrected as he copied down everything. “And I wasn’t running them per say, more like guiding them through the ins and outs of running themselves. Now, I have a few questions for you Miss Davies.”

          “Just call me Willow, Trevor,” I sighed and sat back.

          “Sure thing Miss Davies,” he grinned with an exaggerated wink and I let out a short laugh.

          “First, do I take orders from him, or just you?” he asked and pointed at Ryan, who was in the chair beside me and sitting in on my meeting with Trevor and Geoff while he waited for a hit confirmation. With Trevor being a member of the Fake’s sub-crew, Behind The Scenes as they were lovingly called, and me hanging around anyway, it was easier for us to meet at the hideout where he was working again now that he wasn’t playing doorman.

          “Just me,” I said quickly, and Ryan gave me a look of mock pain.

          “Do I get to read your stuff before it goes public?” he continued as he watched me intently.

          “If you want to I guess,” I smirked.

          “Oh goody!” he grinned. “Are there any things you don’t do? Certain kinds of signings, private events, etcetera?”

          “Most everything is okay. Private events are fine as long as they’re for a good cause,” I answered, a little surprised he asked. Linda never cared about my preferences. “I do make it a point to go to one police banquet a year to keep myself in their good graces, but I really don’t want to deal with them any more than that if I have to. Most of them only fetishize me anyway.”

          I heard Ryan grumble beside me at my comment. He had come with me one time to the main LSPD station when I needed to know something for my most recent novel. He was totally calm and collected, much to my surprise considering he was walking into the lion’s den, until one of the officers not so quietly whispered something about wanting to see if my harness could properly restrain me. I had introduced Ryan as a friend, so the officer was extra scared when he was on the receiving end of a death glare. It should have given Ryan away, but the Los Santos Police aren’t known for their intelligence.

          “No cops, or at least limited cops,” Trevor nodded. “That I’m familiar with.”

          Ryan’s phone buzzed, and he glanced at it before standing up and planting a kiss on the top of my head.

          “Duty calls,” he hummed as he squeezed my shoulder. “I’ll see you back at the house.”

          “Is it my turn for dinner tonight, or yours?” I asked, and Geoff shook his head in disbelief.

          “Mine, but I make no promises on quality,” He said as he shrugged on his jacket. “This one’s apparently wily. I might not feel like waiting for something nice.”

          “I don’t need something nice Dear,” I smiled as he checked the various ammo pockets that were sewn into the lining. “Just something more than the frozen pizza we have left.”

          “Well fuck,” he smirked. “There went my dinner plans.”

          “Just go do your job and come home in reasonable condition,” I rolled my eyes.

          “Love you,” he whispered sweetly into my ear and kissed my cheek before pulling his mask over his head.

          “Love you too,” I blushed and ignored the bit of anxiety that welled in my chest.

          Something about being in their hideout without Ryan made me nervous still, even though I had spent most of the last two months here while I tried to readjust to life under these new circumstances. The Fakes quickly welcomed me into their family, but I still felt like an outsider who didn’t belong. Lindsay was a member of the BTS and Meg had worked with them as assistance with recon before joining them fulltime.

          I was vastly out of my league, but they all treated me like I had always been here. Ryan hadn’t kept much from them but he also mixed in some lies just to fuck with them, so I was blindsided by a ton of questions as they tried to figure out what was true and what wasn’t. My favorite was if I had six toes on one foot, like a real-life witch.

          In return, I was taught how a crew was _actually_ run. I sat in on heist briefings and grilled everyone for information when I could. Now that Geoff had given the okay to tell me things, Jack was more than willing to deal with me following her around and asking questions.

          The only conditions were that I kept anything too specific out of my books and that I treated Ryan right, though the latter didn’t need to be said. How could I hurt the man who was willing to ‘take me to work’ because he was afraid to leave me alone again?

          The little bit of retaliation they had gotten for killing off an entire crew had put Ryan on edge and he refused to leave me at home even though Geoff had landed us a nice house up in the hills alongside the place he shared with Jack. No matter how many times he was assured that I was safer at home than I was at the hideout, for the first two weeks Ryan insisted that I was with a Fake at all times. Eventually I was able to beat some sense into him and he reluctantly let me stay home alone, but it didn’t last long. After a few days of jumping at every sound the unfamiliar house made, I swallowed my pride and kept going to the hideout with Ryan.

          My sudden reclusiveness and the little bit of information I gave the media regarding my assault had also resulted in a lot of hubbub.

          “Be prepared to deal with conspiracy theorists,” I told Trevor after Ryan had left. “The current favorite is that I’m the head of a crew, and that my books are either a cry for help or secretly my memoirs.”

          “That sounds like a stretch,” Trevor snorted.

          “You’re telling me!” I smiled. “I’m not numb enough to be Thomas, and definitely not pretty enough to get around like the ladies in my romance stuff.”

          “Not that Ryan would let you get around,” Geoff shrugged. “But from what I hear, he certainly tries to match the performance of multiple lovers.”

          I rolled my eyes as Trevor’s widened.

          “Do I need to be careful when coming over?” Trevor asked cautiously.

          “Just knock first, like any other human being,” I groaned as I stood and straightened my dress. “They all make it sound like we’re at it constantly, but we’re not. We spend far more evenings curled up in the couch watching Netflix than we do in bed.”

          “How much of that time spent making out though?” Geoff continued to tease.

          I chewed on my lip indignantly and my cheeks started to bloom as the boss snickered.

          “Fuck off Geoff,” I grunted.

          I didn’t stick around the hideout for more than an hour or so after that. It was later in the day anyway, and everyone had work to do so I was just in the way. My little black Issi stuck out like a sore thumb among all the assault vehicles and super cars in their garage, though Ryan’s consistent black and green color scheme made it less obvious. I looked around the garage and saw that his bike was missing and smirked.

          I had told him a thousand times that the mask and the Vagabond persona did nothing for me but once he found out that I liked the way his leather jacket fit him, he started entertaining himself by seeing how ‘into Vagabond’ I really was. This game of his lead to him finding out all kinds of things we wouldn’t have seen if he had kept his alter-ego from me. Like how I loved the way his eye black intensified his eyes, or how turned on I got when I saw him on his motorcycle. I had no interest in bikers or riding motorcycles, but something about the way he looked straddling his bike made me light headed.

          I dreaded the day he decided to keep his mask on in the bedroom. Not because I hated the mask, but because I was afraid I might like it. I would never hear the end of it if he or the other Fakes found out that Willow Davies got off on being fucked by Vagabond.

          I had the top down and music blasting as I drove from the hideout downtown to my new home in the hills and groaned as a notoriously long red light forced me to stop. I lazily looked around the intersection and watched the sidewalk traffic as pedestrians walked by in herds. It was just after five in the afternoon, so clusters of people in suits were mixed in with the high school kids that were out wandering the city before having to go home for the day.

          I looked in my rear-view mirror at the line of cars that was gathering behind me as we all waited for our turn to go when a red sports car pulled up in the turn lane beside me. The two men in it looked over at me and the passenger winked at me.

          “That color looks good on you,” he smiled and shifted to get a better look at my silver and purple wig.

          “Thank you,” I said simply.

          “Really brings out your eyes,” the man continued to compliment.

          I turned to look at him directly and I could see his pupils dilate as I fixed my eyes on him. His friend shook his head as he drummed his thumbs impatiently.

          “Thank you,” I repeated with a polite smile.

          “What do I have to do to get your number?” he smirked with a light blush and I couldn’t help but laugh lightly.

          “Not too much,” I grinned. “Just bring me Vagabond’s mask and it’s all yours.”

          “What the fuck?” he exclaimed as his sweet demeanor turned to anger, just like I thought it would. “You could have just said no!”

          “Something tells me you would have reacted the same way,” I sighed and looked away from the shining example of douchebaggery.

          “I bet you wear a wig because your actual hair is disgusting!” he snapped, and his friend was nervously glancing from me to the lights as he desperately wanted to leave.

          I grabbed the front of my wig and pulled it and my wig cap off. It was getting itchy anyway, and I really wanted to piss this guy off. Months of having Ryan dote on me had made me forget what it was like to deal with assholes like this. Gross cops whispering about fucking me was one thing but having someone turn on me just because I tried to let them down with humor really bothered me.

          “I bet you’re single because your dick isn’t big enough to make up for your disgusting personality,” I spat as I shook my hair out of its bun.

          The light finally changed, and his friend took off before I could hear his response. I smiled smugly and drove off as well. A year ago, I wouldn’t have spoken up. I would have just sat there awkwardly as he attempted to pick me up, but Ryan had been pushing me to be more confident. He said that it would help keep creeps like that away, or at the very least make me feel better about dealing with the public as they asked me a thousand questions about my kidnapping.

          His constant love and support, as well as that of all the Fake AH Crew, had made it possible for me to deal with this transition in my life better than I could have ever dreamed. I wasn’t alone anymore. I wasn’t just the weird writer that everyone invited out of courtesy and to get her out of the house, I was a confident author who got to go home to a loving boyfriend after a day spent researching and meeting fans. Even that douche couldn’t bring me down.

          I pulled into our garage and had stepped out of the car when I realized that the door to the house was open. I froze in place and listened for movement. I heard the familiar sounds of my car settling, but there was something else that I couldn’t quite place and cautiously stepped away so that I could get a look around. Before I could look, I heard the rustle of denim on denim as someone stepped towards me.

          I jumped for the workbench that had come with the place and my fingers wrapped around a screwdriver as someone grabbed me from behind. I whipped around and went to slam my makeshift weapon into the black skull that had appeared behind me, but a strong hand caught my wrist and a familiar chuckle made my brief terror turn into anger.

          “What the hell Babe?” I snapped as he beamed with pride from behind the mask. “I could have killed you! I still might kill you, you son of a bitch!”

          “I know you could have,” he crooned and looked at the weapon in my hand. “And as much as I hate to say it, I’m proud of you for going straight for the kill. Who taught you how to hold a screwdriver like that?”

          As much as he was pushing me to be confident and to be comfortable around the crew, he hated any suggestion that I learn any skills that could involve me killing. My martial arts were fine, I still needed to defend myself, but he drew the line at using anything larger than a pistol. Even basic knife training made him uncomfortable. The irony of Vagabond, who killed for a living and didn’t think twice about it, not wanting his girlfriend to learn to use guns or fight to kill was not lost upon me or any of the other crew members and they taught me anyway. We were all wary of doing it behind his back, but I had convinced Geoff that I needed to be prepared if someone came after me again and the Lads were more than willing to teach me what they knew.

          “I learned it while looking stuff up for my next book,” I lied as his free arm came forward and wrapped around my waist.

          “No,” he hummed to the contrary as he brought my clenched fist down to better look at it. “This looks like Michael’s handiwork. Only he would know the importance of using your thumb to hold the end so it doesn’t slide out of your hand when you make contact.”

          I bit my tongue as he repeated Michael’s reasoning word for word and gave me a knowing, yet disapproving, glare. He pressed his thumb into a tender part of my wrist and I hissed quietly as he hit a pressure point to make my hand open and drop the screwdriver.

          “I thought your hit was wily, what are you doing home already?” I asked, trying to change the subject but Ryan saw what I was doing and his ‘tsk’ was loud and clear even through his mask.

          “Don’t try that on me,” he scolded. “He was wily but clumsy, practically fell into my lap. How long have you been working on this?”

          His eyes were dark and serious as he waved my limp hand, but the way his hand clutched my waist and pulled me closer sent me mixed signals.

          “He mentioned it once while I was messing with Gavin,” I explained, not totally lying as I remembered the training session where they let me try my hand at a plethora of melee weapons.

          “You have a terrible poker face Willow,” he hummed and pushed me against the workbench. “What have they taught you?”

          “Mostly just hand to hand stuff,” I sighed reluctantly. “Not a lot of time to take me to the range without you being there to shut it down.”

          “So, you’ve been _intentionally_ doing this behind my back?” he growled, and I looked away from his intense stare. “Willow, that’s so unlike you.”

          “I am appalled that you would keep this from me,” he continued, and I felt a brief pang of guilt. “What made you think it was okay to become a killer and sneak around behind my back?”

          My eyes rolled back to his and I glared at him as his stony expression gave way and the humorous twinkle in his eyes was made more obvious as the corners of his eyes crinkled.

          “I learned from watching you,” I teased, and he laughed as he let go of my hand so that it could join his other hand on my waist.

          “I don’t like it, but I can’t deny that you did very well,” he huffed. “Anyone slower would have actually got got.”

          “Why _the fuck_ did you come up on me like that?” I frowned even though one of his hands was slowly sliding down my back.

          “It’s not often I get the chance to surprise you in true Vagabond fashion,” he said, his smirk obvious even through his mask. “I wanted to see what you’d do.”

          “Satisfied?”

          “Not in the way I thought I would be.”

          “What did you think would happen?”

          “I thought you’d scream and fight back,” Ryan mused as his wandering hand came to rest on my lower back. “Maybe get a little turned on.”

          “You pervert,” I sneered. “Getting your kicks from scaring innocent women.”

          “I know better than anyone else that you’re not innocent,” he growled and the knowing look he gave me made me blush.

          “How did almost getting your brain scrambled satisfy you?” I asked out of curiosity.

          “I know you can protect yourself,” he said simply. “I can finally stop worrying about leaving you alone.”

          “Take that thing off so I can kiss you,” I smiled sweetly as I reached up to pull his mask off.

          “No,” he said quickly, and his soft expression hardened into a more wicked one as he swatted my hands away. “I think now is a good time to test something else out.”

          “No,” I warned and a low chuckled rumbled from behind the black skull. “No. We’re not doing this. I refuse to anything with the mask on.”

          “Who said that was what I was going to do?” Ryan hissed as he picked me up and wrapped my legs around his waist.

          “What else would you do with the mask on?” I asked as I gripped his shoulders for balance as he carried me into the house.

          “Cook, clean, anything I want really,” he teased as his hands slid under my dress to held my ass as he walked.

          “Oh Willow,” he groaned as his fingers searched for panties I wasn’t wearing, and his tone made my head swim.

          “Anything?” I grinned as he looked at me with desperation in his eyes.

          Where the Fakes got the idea that we had sex constantly, I had no clue, because we didn’t. Between his late nights and just generally being tired, we were lucky to have the energy for anything once _maybe_ twice a week. Maybe they saw his eager teasing and constant contact with me to mean that blood lust wasn’t the only lust he felt.

          What they didn’t know was that he was actually just doing everything he could to make me happy. He knew that I loved his teasing and that his touch made me relax in a way that I couldn’t manage without his presence. By extension, that meant that he loved going down on me. So much so that even just my lack of underwear was enough to make him almost _need_ it.

          “You can’t have both,” I sang as he set me down on the arm of the couch and I heard him whimper as he buried his face into my shoulder, the cool mask sending a chill down my back.

          “You’re cruel,” he hissed.

          “I told you, I’m not doing anything sexual with you if you’ve got the mask on,” I explained. “And if I have to use what little leverage I have over you, I will.”

          He sighed heavily and peeled the mask off so he could give me a passionate kiss before moving me to lay on the couch under him.

          “I will never make you do something you don’t want Willow,” he whispered between soft kisses. “I was only teasing and I’m sorry if I upset you. I would do anything for you and I never want you to think that you need leverage over me like that.”

          I felt a pang of guilt again as he apologized. I hated hearing him say it like he had done something wrong and was on the verge of losing me over something so small as the damn mask.

          “I’ll wear it if you _must_ have the mask involved,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood, and he froze in place and seemed to get lost in thought as he stared into my eyes.

          “I’m most alarmed by the fact that I didn’t immediately hate the idea,” he whined and collapsed on top of me. “Followed by the fact that I considered it for a fraction of a second.”

          I broke into hysterical laughter as he whined into my shoulder.

          “Don’t speak a word of this to anyone.”

          “Your secret is safe with me _Vagabond_ ,” I hummed and he groaned. “What’s for dinner anyway?

          “ _Shit,_ ” he whispered, and I rolled my eyes. “I knew I forgot something.”


End file.
